Genderbent Emperors and Gallivanting Eccentrics
by silverbug28
Summary: DISCONTINUED! Rewrite has already been published. It's called '21st Century Schizoid Man' give it a read if you're interested in seeing the continuation of Dante and Nero's adventures.
1. Chapter 1 (Edited)

**Dear Type-Moon, **

**Please don't sue me for this. I'm just a wee lad. **

**Chapter 1- Bar Beatdowns and Brilliant Blunders**

You know the best part of working for minimum wage at a fast food joint?

The answer's simple. There is no best part. There's absolutely nothing pleasant about working at a fast food place for minimum wage. That is unless you absolutely have to because you need the money, or if you're like me. Money's not a problem for me. I have enough to live on a day to day basis with quite a large sum left over to spend on what I please. Not many can claim to be so lucky.

The reason I work a shitty job is simple. One, I'm extremely bored. It's ironic considering I'm in Japan of all countries. A nation that practically holds the title of most unique in the world. Or weirdest in the world. It all depends on your preference. You'd think getting a job at a burger joint wouldn't exactly spice up someone's life. And you'd be right. I'm still bored as hell. It just gives me something to do besides sit inside with the lights off curled in the fetal position sucking my thumb like an infant.

The second reason I currently am employed at the number one producer of clogged arteries in the world is because it looks good on a resume. By resume I mean the equivalent of a rap sheet for me. I've worked as a janitor, a construction worker, a 'sanitation engineer', and the list goes on. Most were under the table, but it gave me some sort of image in society. Granted the image in question was one of 'minimum-wage loser' but it was still better than 'suspicious introvert foreigner'. It was a necessary step, especially since there's recently been a lot of media coverage about some guy under the alias of 'Mao' indoctrinating teens to commit crimes for him in a city a few hours away.

This is because unfortunately for me he's highly suspected of being a foreigner.

The wonderful people of this city still glare at me like I'm some intruder on their territory. I suppose they've marked it as there's in the same manner a mutt would piss on a fire hydrant to claim ownership. Well, Fuyuki City, Japan would probably be the equivalent to a pitiful rusted up fire hydrant that's a bit dented but some poor low income worker akin to myself got paid to apply a new cherry red coat of paint on it. And then the sad bastard just dumped the whole container on it at once, making a huge mess everywhere.

It almost makes me pity these petty locals who scowl at me because I'm what they'd call a 'gaijin'. To make matters worse I don't exactly fit into their little 'normal' world. My foreign nature isn't just because I'm not Japanese. It's also because I happen to be a magus.

Not the best magus, but passable at least. There's only one branch of the craft that I truly soar in. What is it you ask? Well, for now that's a secret. Maybe I'll tell you later. After you've wined and dined me a bit. I'm completely incapable of using any of the five basic elements. But who cares? It's not like throwing fireballs or casting lightning bolts at the enemy is cool or anything. Ok, maybe I'm a little upset that I can't do that.

At least I have a decent idea of everything else. And by everything else I mean reinforcement magic. Yeah, that's basically it. And I don't even use it like the instructions suggest. Instead I just use it mainly for structural analysis. There's a reason for that of course.

The teacher I had is responsible for me knowing anything about reinforcement. The guy said I'd be pitifully mediocre at anything besides it. I agreed. It got me out of work. By the way, he's the asshole responsible for me currently being in this godforsaken city.

Presently I have one such local giving me the nastiest expression possible as he orders some crappy excuse for food. Here I am just manning the cash register. Exciting. Oh, how the mighty fall.

When my shift ends I bid farewell to my fellow employees. I still don't really remember their names. One's a dark-haired guy; I think his name was Satou or Saduo, something like that. The guy's a devil of a man with how enthused he is at working this shitty job. He puts SpongeBob to shame.

The other's a short chick named Chiha or Chihua. Maybe it's short for Chihuahua? Though she looked Japanese not Mexican. Not sure if that's racist or not. Whatever, they're just random boring people. I suppose I'm a random boring person now too. It's funny how life plays out.

The walk home is dull, so to entertain myself in some fashion I light up a cigarette from the pack in my pocket and begin smoking. It's a bad habit I'd picked up. My manager would fire me if she found out I kept a pack on me while working.

She'd probably also fire me if she knew I came to work drunk most of the time. I didn't really give a shit. It wasn't my fault I lived so close to a convenience store.

Aren't I such a rebel?

Now that I think about it, my stockpile's getting awfully low lately. I'm probably going to have to pay that old guy at the corner a visit in the upcoming day or so. In order to preserve my remaining supply of alcohol an idea entered my head.

I'll simply visit a local bar.

Ah, only two things truly make me happy in this world. Guns and liquor.

Normally this is where it'd be fitting to add the phrase 'Murica' like a proper patriotic redneck. Unfortunately, I'm no longer in the United States, nor am I anywhere near the stereotype of a redneck. I grew up in the suburbs, not some backcountry den of incest and moonshine.

In any case it hardly matters what I'm called. I just am. Nothing more, nothing less.

I enter some type of pub. Glancing at a sign it briefly registered that the name of it started with a 'c'. The 'bar' I entered is something that in Japan you could call a kyabakura. I think. Basically it's a hostess club. Only in name though. Sure it has a hostess who pours drinks and lights cigarettes. She looks only a bit older than I; she's probably a college girl. Maybe older.

It's horrible of me to say but she's kind of plain looking. Maybe a four out of ten. Her hair's a dark brunette and reaches to her lower back. The black apron she's wearing has the name of the bar along with some sort of cat sketching on it. It's a pretty poor drawing, the sort of thing a kid would draw in kindergarten. She looks anxious and stressed. Probably been working a long shift.

The bartender's an older dude with a mustache. He's dressed in the stereotypical bartender garb. Complete with a bowtie. If he had less hair I'd imagine him as the Japanese version of Alfred Pennyworth.

This isn't the first time I've been in this place. In fact I think it's the third or fourth. Which is unusual for me since I tend to only visit a place like this once before moving on to the next one. The owner/current bartender though is pretty reasonable. The hostess is his daughter, and even though I look like an ex-convict they serve me without question. To me that's commendable.

The father-daughter duo that runs this place is definitely ok in my book. Though I still don't know their names. Nor do I care what they are. We'll just call them old mustache geezer and shitty cat drawing girl. That's too long. How about OMG and SCDG. Yay! Text lingo! I'm just as savvy as all the other kids these days. 'Oh my God'? No that's too easy. 'Omnipotent mutated gonorrhea' and 'sexually confused degenerate gorilla'. Yeah that works.

I take a seat at a bar stool and tell OMG to serve me whatever he's got. Since I'm bored and tired I'm not exactly picky. He simply nods in understanding before giving a small smile and grabbing a random bottle. SCDG is dealing with the other customers. Unfortunately for her they're not what you'd call regulars. There are four of them. All give off bad vibes. I can almost taste the negative aura they give off. You don't need to be a wizard to feel it. Just observant. The entire group is loud and obnoxious. I pity the woman serving them.

They're making awful jokes at her. Not in the crude sexual manner. No, way worse. The cheesy pick up line type of joke that isn't disturbing, just disgusting. Though if I'm right about these guys as soon as they're drunk the dumb jokes will escalate horribly.

I calmly sip the glass of bourbon I've been poured. That's another plus of this place; it's pretty diverse in the alcohol it carries. As I set down the glass I already notice something's up. I feel one of them approach me. It takes a lot to stop myself from tensing up at his arrival. He sits down at the stool next to me.

The dipshit has this huge ass smirk on his face. I can already tell I'm not going to hit it off with the guy. I look at OMG. His face is pretty tense right now. With a quick nod in the direction of that bottle of bourbon he starts to refill my glass. As he tries to take the bottle away I stop him.

He leaves the bottle in front of me.

Surprisingly the goon next to me hasn't made a move yet. He's still got that idiotic expression on his face. It goes well with his cue ball of a head.

"You're gonna buy me a drink."

I gulp down the glass of alcohol, ignoring him completely. This doesn't sit well with him.

"Hey! Did you hear me? You're buying me a drink punk!"

Well that escalated quickly.

I suppose he finds no need for small talk considering he thinks he's the tough guy here who could kill me with his bare hands. Ignorance is bliss. He continues to stare at me after shouting. Then he starts glaring. OMG's giving me a concerned look. He's probably worried that I'll get hurt. Or maybe he just doesn't want a fight.

"Did you hear me?!"

Cue ball shouts again. He's clearly a bit tipsy.

"How about I just give you some of what's in the bottle here. No point in wasting good booze and it's not like I'll drink it all."

I state this without any emotion.

He glances at the bottle before snorting in displeasure.

"I'm not drinking that shit. You're gonna buy me another bottle."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should just give it a try. It's not bad."

He starts cackling. It's pathetic. I've already decided how to handle this guy. I look at OMG and give him a look of apology. I toy with the idea of reinforcing the bottle with prana. That'd probably kill him though. Which would be a problem for the mustachioed guy in front of me.

When cue ball finishes the cackling I take a long swig out of the bottle.

"Where's that drink?!"

He almost screams this.

"Well aren't you a persistent fuck. I offered the bourbon. I'm not wasting my cash on anything else just for some idiot I don't know. Go polish your head dipshit, that way you can serve humanity in the form of a mirror. It'd be more useful than what you currently are doing."

He gasps at me in shock. It doesn't take long for it to turn to fury.

The moron pushes the stool out from under him and stands up.

At this point his buddies glance over to the scene and start shouting for him to beat me senseless. He clenches his fists. Then he throws a punch. I grab his fist without looking at him.

"Eh?"

That's the only response he makes. Then I reel him in like a hooked fish and smash his face into the counter.

As he crumbles in a kneeling position, forehead on the tabletop, I smash the bottle of bourbon into the back of his head and he collapses. The bottle doesn't even shatter and he's out like a light.

It took less than ten seconds.

I didn't even get off the stool.

OMG's staring at me incredulously.

So are cue ball's comrades and the hostess.

I take another swig out of the bottle. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Then his buddies make a mistake.

They start getting up. Then they start approaching me.

They didn't expect some punk like me wearing the attire of a fast food employee to be able to deck their friend. Now that it happened they feel it necessary to make me pay.

How childish. Coming from me that's a testament as to how low these idiots are.

I continue to simply sit at the bar sipping out of the bottle I just used to take out cue ball. For a brief moment I make eye contact with OMG. Worry has again made an appearance on his face. From behind me I hear his daughter attempt to calm down the three approaching me. The continuous sound of their footsteps tells me her attempt is unsuccessful. Then one of them shouts at her to shut up and I hear the sound of a hard impact followed by a yelp. I can tell one of them slapped her. Mr. Mustache in front of me looks pissed. Yet he still sits behind the bar. He almost looks ashamed to do so. I don't know why.

Both he and I know he'd be no match for a three on one fight.

The trio continues to walk towards me. They attempt to do something akin to a pincer maneuver, with one on each side of me and the last one directly behind me. I continue drinking, not even glancing their way. The one on the right makes the first move.

He's one of those idiots who have most of their face tattooed. It's just screaming unemployment.

He grabs my glass and tosses it at the wall. The glass shatters everywhere.

Then the one on the left gets in my face. He's your average looking guy, pretty bland looking to be honest. Though the way he flexes his muscles tells me he finds himself intimidating.

"You should have just bought him a drink gaijin. You've got two options now. Apologize and beg for mercy and I promise we won't cause any permanent damage. Or don't, and then we can enjoy beating you to a bloody pulp."

What is he, a thug from a 70s action flick?

He takes the bottle away from me and tosses it to the guy behind me. I hear the third one chug down the alcohol. Our mustachioed bartender finds it appropriate to speak up at this time.

"Leave him alone. You three need to take your friend and leave."

Face tattoo speaks up.

"Or what? Cut the shit old man you can't do anything. Shut your mouth or you'll be next."

That effectively silences him. I release a deep sigh while rubbing my face. At that moment the one behind me smashes the bottle into the back of my head. The glass shatters and blood starts to flow from the new wound. For a brief flash I feel pain. Then it quickly disappears when overwhelming fury enters my mind. Without thinking I access my magical circuits. Activating the flow of prana is like firing a revolver off in my mind. The hammer hits the firing pin and bang. With minimal effort I reinforce my body.

My fist smashes into the tattooed one.

I hear his nose break, his teeth shatter, and his jaw snap.

With one punch I've done damage on the same level as someone using brass knuckles.

He crumples to the ground like the first goon I took out with the bottle. It's a one-hit K.O. The sheer force of the impact stuns everyone in the room except me.

I slowly rise from the bar stool and turn to glare at the remaining two. Blood still leaks from the gash on the back of my head. I'd worry about it if I had the time.

It could have been worse. Good thing my head's harder than it looks.

The guy who hit me with the bottle is the biggest of the group but he's still about an inch shorter than me. He panics and trips over his own feet, making him fall backwards on his ass.

The pseudo-intimidator who was on my left reaches into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade.

Part of me wants to take him on barehanded. It'd probably be more satisfying with the amount of damage I'd do to him. But I'm not so reckless as to risk it.

I glance over to where SCDG was standing in the corner looking upon the scene with fear in her eyes. I couldn't tell if it was fear for her own safety, her father's, or for mine. Maybe it was fear of me. A welt started to materialize on her face where she'd been struck.

It'd be unnecessary to prolong this scuffle anymore. Plus there's the chance the bartender or his daughter could be hurt badly.

Taking this into consideration I bend down while watching the two goons closely. Both appear scared of me, but the one with the knife looks about ready to strike out of anger.

It seems he needs a little persuasion to get lost. From gap between my ankle and my pants' leg I appear to pull out a firearm. In reality I've just done something far more "magical" than just pulling a snub-nosed revolver out of an ankle holster.

Unfortunately for me, the current conditions lead to something less than perfect. The gun is basically an unfinished mess. It's without a hammer. When it's supposed to have one. The cylinder's also not really connected to the frame, meaning I have to hold it in place in a convincing enough manner that these goons will stay back. Basically I'm putting on a big farce right now. Let's see how convincing of an actor I am.

"Look who brought a knife to a gunfight. Playtime's over kiddies. This is a Charter Arms Bulldog, Model 74421. It's got a two and a half inch barrel with a five-round cylinder that's chambered to fire .44special ammunition." I wiggle the gun at them. Dangerously waving it around and causing them to tense in response.

"You've got no idea how much of a bitch it is to sneak this around every day. There's been at least three occasions where I almost pissed myself thinking my boss noticed it. You see, it would have cost me my job, as shitty and useless of a job it may be." I'm talking way too much. Putting way too many details into why I have this gun. I can't help it. I'm nervous. If I'm not convincing I could have the Mages' Association on my ass.

"Unfortunately for you two, I'm a paranoid guy, so paranoid that I risk my career every day just to carry this thing. It's almost like a security blanket, I don't go anywhere without it. Well except the airport, that's kind of why I avoid those. I'd hate to get a full cavity search." I grin at this. A sweat drop starts rolling down the side of my face. Please let this work.

There's a long drawn out period of silence. We're all tense. Armed and ready for violence. It's not a pleasant period. They're probably pondering whether or not I'm serious. As well as if they'd be capable of taking me on if I am.

Then I get a positive sign. The one who tripped starts scrambling backwards. It reminds me of a cockroach scurrying away. It tells me that my bluff worked. The one with the knife just stares at me. His mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. OMG and SCDG have similar reactions. Good, I captured their attention and sold my story. Now to take this all the way.

"So, uh, now would be a good time for you two to grab your two potato sack like friends and skedaddle on out of here, because I happen to be an American, and we just love to take advantage of our Second Amendment rights."

I say this last part with a sarcastic accent in English, but with my eyes I make the point to the two that they should be taking this very seriously.

It's enough for them to understand to get the hell out.

The knife guy practically drops his knife as he rushes to grab the guy I punched. The one who hit me follows his lead and gets up to grab the one I bonked with the bottle. They then run out of the pub with their tails between their legs. The lie ended up paying off.

Who ever said honesty was the best policy clearly never had to deal with a violent situation.

I uttered a sigh of relief before slipping the incomplete handgun into my pants pocket. That could have ended worse than it did. A lot worse.

Though it does open up a whole new set of problems. The main one being how to dump the gun. Maybe I can toss it in the sea. Nah, too much work. I'll just bury it in the couch cushions. Nothing gets rediscovered there. The other problem is the two witnesses. They could get me a prison sentence if they squeal on me.

I gave a glance towards the owner and his daughter, she was crying into his chest while he was simply stroking her hair. He gave me a look of gratitude. I started to leave but stopped when he spoke. "Your head. It's bleeding."

I merely nodded in response. His daughter stopped crying, wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked at me as well. The concern in their eyes caught me off guard. It made me feel like I needed to respond.

"It's nothing. I'll be ok." The owner had already started to shake his head the second I opened my mouth.

"You need a doctor. Maybe even the hospital." I snorted at this. If only he knew.

"I'm sure you can understand why that's not going to happen." They shared a look before looking at me and nodding. I nodded as well. Then I turned away, preparing to leave.

"Wait!" This time it was the girl who spoke up. I was beginning to get annoyed so I started to tap my foot impatiently. "What?" I snapped at her a little and my change of tone stunned her for a moment. But only a moment.

"At least let me put some ice on it or something. In order to avoid a concussion." Their concern for me was confusing, but entertaining to a degree. So I just nodded. Then they started to work on a makeshift icepack. A towel that would have normally been used to wipe down the bar, and ice cubes typically used for drinks. The girl walked to me with the pack in hand. She was hesitant in her approach. Like a deer approaching a sleeping wolf. I grinned at her to try and calm her. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

She smiled a little at this. Her father chuckled from the bar. She personally placed the icepack on my head, taking my hand in her own and placing it where it would firmly hold the pack to my wound. I nodded my thanks to her.

On closer inspection I conceded that I might have judged her too harshly. She was at least a five or six out of ten. Maybe a seven without the tear stains. Though I knew more than a few guys who would have preferred her with them. Sick fucks.

"I'll get the towel back to you in a few days." The father again shook his head.

"It's just a towel. Keep it. We owe you for what you did."

Now it was my turn to shake my head. "I was only defending myself. If anything I escalated it by being here."

They were silent. But not for long. "Maybe, maybe not." It was the daughter who spoke. I didn't expect that response. I didn't know how to respond. So I just nodded.

"They may come back. I'd suggest getting a gun yourself."

The father snorted at this. "A gun? In Japan? That's illegal."

I laughed at this. "Doesn't stop me from carrying one."

He smiled at this. "Fair point."

We stood in silence before I finally waved my goodbyes and left. They thanked me all the way out. I didn't understand why.

On the bright side I doubted I would be ratted on to the police. So I didn't have to deal with questions as to why I had a firearm. That was the only thanks I needed. Legal issues are always an inconvenience. The best course of action is to avoid them. Trust me, I know.

Continuing the journey home I lamented that I probably wouldn't ever be able to go back to that pub.

From the pocket of my work uniform I pull out my MP3. Slipping in the earbuds I select an Eminem song and walk with one hand on the icepack and one in my pocket. The sun's starting to go down so I hurry as quickly as possible to get home. After a fifteen minute walk I find myself in front of it.

It's a two story building, well three stories if you count the attic. It's obviously not of Japanese design. There's a one car garage attached to the first floor on the left. It's built like a fort, made from mortar and bricks with only a few windows on the second floor. I could understand how people saw it as intimidating. It stood out even among the European styled housing in this area. Unlike a home it didn't feel inviting. It was necessary, not built for comfort. A safe house.

My key enters the door's lock and without hesitating I turn it. Entering my humble abode and locking the door shut behind me, I find myself disappointed at the sight of its contents. For what reason, I do not know. I've been living here for the past three or so years. Yet still this place isn't exactly home for me. I walk to the kitchen located straight across from the front door. The house itself is only a one bedroom, one bath, with three floors. Though I was lucky enough to have a bathroom with a shower and a bathtub, the toilet is for some reason in its own side room. A room with only the toilet in it, it's like a small closet really. I don't even question it.

Next to the toilet room is a slightly larger one that houses the washer and dryer. Then there's the bedroom which only contains a queen sized bed, a desk, a large bookshelf, and my dresser. All of this is located on the second floor. The third floor is basically just an attic, which is another plus in my book. I store a lot of the things that could be controversial if found by someone up there. Hell even the first floor isn't that bad considering the kitchen's easily accessible and spacious enough to shelter a good sized refrigerator, a sink against the wall, a stove and oven set, and a small freezer with a microwave set on top of it.

The issue lies in the fact that the kitchen has nothing to separate it from the rest of the ground floor. No walls, no counters, nothing. So when I enter my house there's no difference between the wooden tiles of the living room, the dining room, or the kitchen. Which for some reason irks me, then again maybe I'm just being picky. The living room is basically just a small television on a stand, with a laptop on a shelf of the stand, and a stereo set on a smaller nightstand next to it. The dining room is even more pitiful, basically it only being a small wooden table with two chairs across from each other. It's depressing but those are the only two chairs I own, which is really irritating considering I have to move them around when I want to not sit at the table. I keep forgetting to visit some sort of furniture store in the shopping district and purchase another pair.

When I think about it, this place could be nice if I spent the time and money to add furnishings to it. Really it's just empty now. I guess I don't feel like lying to myself and making this into something it's not.

In the kitchen I toss the ice in the icepack into the sink. The towel is folded up and placed on the sink's counter. That done, I open up the fridge and pull out a bottle of wine. Considering that I don't own any wine glasses, or any glasses for that matter, I guzzle down a swig from the bottle itself. Wiping my mouth on the sleeve of the black sweater I'm wearing, I put the bottle back. Then I pull the pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of work slacks. Opening the pack I'm disappointed to find that there's only own remaining now. Yet again sighing I place the last cigarette in my mouth; toss the container in a small trashcan in the corner, and pull out one of those cheap plastic lighters you would buy at a convenience store for a buck. Or something like a hundred yen here.

I light the cigarette up and take a long drag. The slight buzz mixes with the small one from drinking the cheap wine and relaxes my nerves a little. It dulls the headache I have too. Bottles to the brain are never a good thing to experience. It'll probably heal on its own though. It'll have to.

I go up to the stereo set, it's one of those mildly expensive types with a digital playlist that can connect to an MP3 player and play the songs downloaded onto it. I usually just leave the MP3 player connected to the thing. Scrolling through the selection screen I pick a Limp Bizkit song. Ironic choice in regards to the previous selection of Eminem.

Nothing makes me feel better after a bad day more than tobacco, alcohol, rap and rock.

I sat down at one of the chairs near the dining table and put the cigarette out in the ashtray I had placed on the table's center. The only thing of noticeable interest on this floor of the house was the antique knife set in a display case in front of me right next to the ashtray. It was the only thing in the room that had an inkling of magical energy surrounding it, and the only thing that probably had some sort of worth to it. It was amusing to think that it was also the only thing I hadn't acquired legitimately. Shows what type of person I am.

It was a different time. A different life.

I had stuck the playlist on shuffle so after Limp Bizkit ended a song from Warrant came on. If I remembered correctly it was called 'Down Boys'. I smiled slightly at the more upbeat tone. "Where do the Down Boys go?" I posed the question to no one in particular. Truth be told, I could consider myself a so called 'down boy'. Not in the sense that the song was talking about, this was supposedly referring to 'down boys' in regards to men who like performing oral sex on women. I thought of the term 'down boys' as referring almost too lost souls. People with nowhere to go basically. It's basically a depressing idea I put on a mainly upbeat song.

Days like these made me miss my Teacher more than anything. He as dead of course. It's been a few years since his death. It's the reason I'm in Japan. The reason I'm bored. I really wished he was alive. Or I at least wished that I could pretend he was alive still, that there was a chance. A chance that the sonofabitch was still out in the world kicking ass and taking names. But I couldn't pretend. I'd seen him get iced in front of me.

Huh, it's funny. 'Iced.' We use such a term for killing someone. Shows how cold an act it can be to end a life. Not personal. Just business. That's what they say. Wasn't it the same for me? I did things based on profit or pleasure. Still did nowadays. My Teacher knew how the life was like. He knew what he was getting into. But that didn't make me feel better, and it wouldn't make his children, or his widow feel any better either.

I wasn't even able to go to the funeral. Partly because I was the reason for it. Ah well, I'm not good at goodbyes anyway. That bastard wouldn't have wanted me to mourn. Doesn't stop me from doing it though. At least not on days like this.

The stereo was playing a song I didn't recognize so it must have been one I'd downloaded randomly just for the hell of it, or I'd just forgotten it. With my thought process both seemed plausible.

Walking back to the kitchen I took a TV dinner out of the freezer and stuck it in the microwave to cook. While I waited I leaned against the wall and let my thoughts wander.

This city had labeled me an outsider. Just another foreigner. Even though I was more eccentric than the average guy, I was still labeled as a run of the mill foreigner. I understood that most people who saw me considered me a slob. This was displeasing the first year or so then I got over it. My lifestyle had become the basic saga of a college fraternity kid.

My hair was long and wavy, to the point that it went past my shoulders. At best it could be considered messy, at worst it was a disaster. I hardly combed it, most of the time I'd just wake up and put on some clothes to go about my business without even worrying about my hair. It pissed my boss of to no end. She would have fired me a long time ago if not for my natural charm. And my ability to blackmail her with that security tape. My hair was a light color which was irritating because it set me out among the locals even more. The color would probably be considered dirty blond, borderline brown. I had stubble all along my jawline and around my mouth since I kept forgetting to shave. This also pissed off my boss. What a bitch. Maybe she's learned her lesson not to do certain things in certain public places.

My eyes were a golden brown, almost like honey. Several gray bags were underneath them on account of me being prone to staying up late till the wee hours of the morning. I think it was starting to get to me, but I couldn't exactly help it. Insomnia's a bitch. My skin color was a slight tan, mainly from being in the sun for hours on end. At one point I'd looked like a lobster I was so red. Glad that at least changed. I had a decent muscular build thanks to the training I'd done with my teacher and the fact that I kept up the exercise regime he'd focused on. Though I did relax it in many ways. As in the schedule became "When I get to it."

I stood around 5'11 which was roughly average for a male, and important considering the average height of a Japanese male was only around 5'9 or so. If I'd been taller I would have stood out even more. Granted I still stood out a lot. Just not as much as I could. Thanks to all that exercise I weighed somewhere along the line of 170 pounds, most of that being muscle. My weight was also partially because I ate little throughout the day, almost to the point of fasting. Truth be told I just lacked an appetite. I haven't been hungry for years.

Besides the work uniform most of the clothes I wore covered up as much as my form as possible. My wardrobe didn't include any shorts, only jeans and a pair of slacks. I only owned three t-shirts, most of my shirts were either long sleeved, or button up. I usually wore one of my hoodies over all this or else my one leather jacket that really didn't fit me whatsoever. At this point it basically was a trench coat for me. Probably because it was my Teacher's before it was mine.

He had been a huge man, standing at close to 6'8 and weighing somewhere in the ballpark of 250 pounds. All of it being muscle. His name had been Richard Wright, though I assumed that was nothing but an alias. I assumed he'd come up with the name with inspiration coming either from the African-American author or else the musician who'd been with Pink Floyd. Maybe it was a combination of the two. He liked the Wright brothers too. Always wanted to get his pilot's license and buy a plane for himself. I even told the dipshit I'd be his copilot. Guess that wasn't going to ever happen.

My teacher had been an African-American himself; he'd served as a U.S. Navy Seal. Quite a distinguishing career in my opinion. Unfortunately his career after being discharged wasn't anywhere near as distinguished. I should know. It's the only reason a guy like me met a guy like him. After that, the rest is history.

He was an asshole but he was the smartest person I'd ever met. That's why I referred to him as Teacher. I'd had plenty of teachers in my life. Most just told you how things are. He actually showed me. That's one of the reasons why I missed him.

The strangest thing about my teacher had been the fact that he was a magus like me. Boy was that a terrifying day when he stumbled across me accessing my magic circuits. I thought for sure I'd have to do some Men in Black style mind wipe on his ass. Instead I got a lecture about how I needed to conceal my identity better or else the Association would hunt me down. I didn't realize he was a mage as well until around ten minutes into the lecture.

He'd been born one and had ended up pursuing a military career even with that background. I remember the stories he told me about his past. His family basically disowned him for his life choices. Though he didn't really care. I kind of respected that.

This house and most of the things in it was actually his, it was basically his last gift to me. I appreciated everything he did for me, even though I didn't necessarily show it, and I knew I'd never be able to repay him. The thought depressed me.

The microwave uttered a tired set of beeps that led me to believe that I'd need to replace it eventually. Eh, I'd do it later. I pulled the dinner out of it and took a plastic fork from the box containing them that was atop the fridge. The food was unappealing but since it was a necessity I forced it down. It was some type of meat patty along with dehydrated mashed potatoes and corn. The important factor was the price of it being really cheap. I suppose that's the only way they could sell them, since the meat was like cardboard and the potatoes like sawdust. The corn was ok. For frozen corn. Still at least it was food, no reason for me to complain. Though I still did it anyway, because I was still that spoiled brat who'd run away from his family. That was something I could never escape from.

I took a soda out of the fridge and chugged it down to wash away the remainder of the plastic meal. Then I tossed it all into the trashcan in the corner where the empty pack of cigarettes lay. I took a glance at my wristwatch and found that it was a little after six in the evening. Considering I had nothing better to do I figured I might as well restock my supply of tobacco. I should have done it before. I quickly changed into a dark gray t-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers and a black hoodie. I slip a pocketknife into my, well, pocket.

The sun was beginning to set so I should hurry to the convenience store I bought them from. I left the house, turning off the stereo and locking the door behind me. Walking down the streets alone was almost unnerving. The news had been full of suspicious murders occurring. The police had no suspects. Hence it being suspicious. I understood that much.

Fuyuki City had been the site of the last Holy Grail War. That's why my teacher picked it as my final hiding place. I'd make no sense for someone like me to hide in a place with such a background. Sort of like hiding in plain sight. One of the first things my teacher had taught me was how to hide my magical presence, and that helped as well. I didn't know the situation surrounding the war itself. It didn't concern me so I didn't really care about it. All I knew was that it had been an utter letdown, and that was probably a good thing. The winner had chosen a simple wish. Or at least I assume he or she did considering nothing major happened after their victory. They'd been the Master of Saber so it was obvious how they won. No one knew what they wished for, and afterwards they left Japan.

My teacher had joked about it. "Listen, if Saber's Master was a girl she wished for true love and lived happily ever after with her prince." He said this sarcastically, he was obviously mocking the notion. "But if the she was a he, well then he either wished for a woman or multiple women." He broke into a loud laughing fit after saying this. I never got the humor behind it, but that's how he often told jokes. I assumed it was funny due to how the ironic notion of a male or female victor wishing for roughly the same thing but in different ways, with the male stereotypically focusing more on lust than love.

Then he shot that theory down when he abruptly stopped laughing and put on his best 'wise teacher' face. "Remember you do not define yourself. You are defined by those around you. Especially those you love, their love for you defines what you are." At this I busted out laughing. I hardly believed in a notion of 'love' and I was pretty sure he'd just stolen that quote from someone else." He chastised me for hours. *Sigh. I hardly understood the man half the time.

Entering the convenience store I walk up to the counter and ask for a pack of cigarettes in Japanese. It's my fourth language and another useful lesson from my teacher. English, Italian, and Latin are the other three. Family tradition and all that.

The owner doesn't even hesitate when he notices that it's me. We've been through this same song and dance dozens of times. I hand him the 500 yen note and he returns the change to me along with the cigarettes. The entire exchange is done without a word on his part, just a few grunts of acknowledgment as I say goodbye. That's how most of my interactions go down with people around here. I believe the exact label they've given me would be the equivalent of 'cocky douchebag foreign slob'. I might be missing a few choice words. I suppose it can't really be helped. I don't exactly act like an approachable guy considering how I usually just shut myself indoors, only exiting the house for my daily run, work, or these types of errands.

By now it's dark out. Walking back home is a boring tedious thing. Hardly anyone's out at this time. Pulling my pocketknife out of my pocket I cut the plastic wrap off the pack of cigarettes. I quickly toss it in a trashcan while continuing my walk home. A cigarette is removed, set in my mouth, and lit. My journey back home contains only smoking and silence.

Finally reaching my house I unlock the door yet again and step inside, not even bothering to flick the light switch on as I do so. I locked the door behind me and took a seat at the dining table. I extinguish the cigarette in the ashtray. My gaze happened upon the antique knife. It and the ashtray were the only things on the table. I reached out and grabbed it. Immediately I felt the surge of energy surrounding it. Whatever it was it had been important in some way.

It was just a simple crude blade. Rusted from centuries of existence. It had worked as a decent shank though. I was surprised the handle was even still intact. I knew it had been excavated somewhere in Italy, a dig team had found it at one of their sites.

I pressed my finger against the blade expecting it to be dull. Instead I was surprised to feel a sharp prick as it sliced open the skin of my index finger. Blood started to trickle out of the wound. It was stupid of me to do that. I'd used it as a makeshift weapon years ago, of course it was somehow still sharp. I was an idiot to expect a change to have happened, for it to somehow have become a normal relic of the past. 'Great' I thought 'Now I'm going to need a tetanus shot.' Then I mentally face palmed when I realized how idiotic that type of thought had been.

I then applied the most advanced method of medical treatment known to man. I sucked on my finger.

The old blade in my other hand started to glow ever so slightly. Then it started to become hot to the touch. I panicked and on reflex I dropped it to the floor to avoid burning myself. The object started to glow brighter. My eyes had to adjust from the sudden exposure. The remnants of my blood on the blade started to wriggle drop by drop, inching across the floor like some type of worm. The droplets formed something akin to a crude circle. Strange runes formed in the center as my blood continued to crawl. Both inside and out.

The light was overpowering everything, almost whiting out the surrounding environment. Then, it abruptly vanished. The circle of blood seemed to evaporate.

In its place stood a short figure.

It was giving off a powerful magical aura.

My hand started burning and looking down I noticed some type of marking had appeared on it. My eyes had to again adjust to the sudden darkness before I could tell any further details.

When they finally did so I saw that the marking appeared to be a bundle of wood with an axe sticking out of the side. I recalled the Roosevelt dime and how a similar image was on the back of it. I believe the term for it was 'fasces'. A laurel wreath, divided into two sections, surrounded it.

Looking up I realized the figure that had appeared was that of a girl's. She had blonde hair that was tied up in some type of bun with a red ribbon. The clothing she wore was strange to say the least. She was wearing a red and white dress with gold trim. The red matched the red of a rose, while the white was like that of pure snow. On her shoulders she had what seemed to be epaulettes. For shoes she had high heels. It seemed she also had some type of armored shin guard on her legs too. The most absurd part of her attire was the fact that her dress had see-through sections that showed a portion of her back and rear.

She slowly turned around to face me. Her eyes were a bright shade of green. Her expression was questioning but the smile on her lips could almost be called an arrogant smirk. Looking at her hair again I realized she had something the Japanese called an ahoge, which I basically saw as a cowlick. The most irritating part of this girl besides her haughty appearance was the fact that pretty much the entire front of her dress was translucent. It was to the degree that I could see her underwear.

"I ask of you, are you my Master?"

For a moment there's a long awkward pause.

"How the fuck did you get in my house?"

I completely ignore the question she asks. I'm in no mood for this bullshit.

My response seems to annoy her and she opens her mouth in order to respond.

Since I'm a polite young gentleman I of course took the proper action and rudely interrupted her before she could start criticizing me.

"Wait wait wait. This is a damn dream isn't it? Eventually you're going to start doing the Macarena. All I have to do is wake up."

At this I harshly slap myself in the face.

"There now you should be nonexistent and everything should be fine."

It shocks me to see the girl glaring at me still.

"What the hell." I pinch myself. Nope. She's still there.

"Ok give me a second because I think I might have bought something a bit stronger than cigarettes from that store clerk."

I stand up and walk to the kitchen without even waiting for her to affirm my request. From the refrigerator I pull out a bottle of whiskey and take a straight shot from it. I gesture at the girl.

"Hey you. Yeah you, you want some?"

She looks at me with disgust so I just shrug and take another shot. Then I pull out another cigarette and light it. Taking a long drag I look at the girl again.

"So you're still here? Guess that means either I'm insane or you're real."

"I assure you I am very real. Now then I shall ask you once more. Answer me properly this time. Are you my Master?"

I start laughing at this.

"Fuck no I'm not your master. I think you got the wrong guy, maybe you meant to go to one of the neighbors. I could see some of them as the type to be into BDSM shit. Wearing costumes and all that." I remove the cigarette from my mouth in order to toss back another shot of whiskey. Alternating between smoking and drinking is always fun. Hopefully I'll eventually pass out from it. It'd at least take me away from this ridiculous situation.

She seems completely perplexed by this. I guess that's not the answer she was expecting.

"What do you mean you are not my Master? Is this some form of Oriental humility? I assure you there is no reason to be overwhelmed in my presence, know that I will refrain from asking you how privileged you feel to have summoned me."

Again I rudely laugh at her. And again I take another shot. At this point I'm a little bit drunk.

"Ok lady, no offense but you need to get a pair of glasses. Do I look 'Oriental' to you?" At this I gesture to my face. She frowns but doesn't answer.

"And what's all this about 'privileged to have summoned me' shit? Do I look privileged? No? Good because I sure as hell don't feel privileged to have some random chick in a fetish costume break into my house asking if I'm her master."

"Fetish costume?!" Woah, I don't like her tone of voice. She sounds a bit angry.

"My attire is simply allowing you to bear witness to all my glorious beauty!" She gestures at her moronic getup.

"I am not some whore coming to please a simpleton like you!" Oh, and there's the accusatory finger pointing. She's practically trying to impale me with her index finger. Lovely.

"I was called as a Heroic Spirit by my Master. Since it is obvious that a pathetic being such as yourself could not dream of summoning me, I ask that you tell me where my actual Master is before I cut you down where you stand for insulting me."

Now she's pissed. Great. My response is the only logical one.

"Oh."

As soon as she said Heroic Spirit realization clicked into place. It made more sense in an illogical irrational manner. That's how magic seemed to work. It always made sense but didn't at the same time.

"Well uh." She just kept glaring at me. "This is awkward."

I say the obvious before placing the bottle of alcohol down and walking over to the dining area. She tenses up when I start approaching her.

"Beware. An attempt to harm me will be one in vain. For I. . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, Heroic Spirit, could crush me like a bug. Blah, blah, blah."

I wave off her warning before grabbing one of the chairs and carrying it over in front of the television. Sitting down I start to skip through the channels looking for something entertaining. I can hear the girl grinding her teeth behind me.

"Your impudence is unheard of! How dare you ignore me! You will pay for. . . ."

I simply raise the volume of the television. I can feel her start to storm towards my position. Glancing over my shoulder I am more than a little alarmed to see she's pulled out a large crimson sword. I have to keep calm though. Exert my dominance in this situation.

"We both know you won't use that on me."

She lowers her sword but continues to glare at me. Success! So it was a bluff. That explains what type of person she is. I could have got a servant that'd kill me right off the bat. That would have sucked.

"I demand an apology."

I frown.

"Fuck no."

This surprises her. Her eyes go wide and she starts to frown at me. Then she starts to pout. It's one of those "you kicked a puppy" pouts. I can't really resist it.

"Wait! You didn't let me finish. Damn, am I already rubbing off on you?"

She snorts at this.

"Well that was unladylike."

Again she glares at me, but this time she's slightly blushing. The sword's noticeably disappeared as well. Great, I needed to remove that from the equation as soon as possible.

"Ok, here's how it is. I'm not apologizing to you because you kind of barged in here without even so much as a phone call and accused me of being pathetic." Now I'm the one to put on the puppy dog pout. "I am hurt deeply." For added effect I throw in a little sniffle at the end.

This is all said and done sarcastically. However the girl doesn't seem to notice that as she looks slightly guilty.

"I had no role in the manner in which I was summoned. Insulting you was improper of me." There's a long pause, it's as if she's internally debating something. "I-I-I a-apologize." Wow, that certainly seemed to have taken a lot from her. As if to prove my point, she throws in a figurative finger pointing immediately after apologizing. "However your words were crude and your attitude is infuriating." I know you are, but what am I?

I laugh at this.

"You know I was joking right? Sticks and stones and all that."

Her glare deepens.

"But, I appreciate the apology. I wasn't really expecting one and you're right I started this. So even though I appreciate it I'm going to have to decline it." She's about to protest, so I continue. "It's unnecessary for you to apologize for defending yourself. That'd be a waste of words."

She seems taken aback by this. I continue.

"Alright here's how it is. By now you're probably thinking I have your master tied up in the closet or something. Unfortunately that's not the case." I allow for a dramatic pause. In order to build up to the punchline I'm about to say. "I mean you're the one into the BDSM shit, not me."

At this she glares at me harshly.

"Ha ha, can't ya take a joke? Please?"

She stops and stares at me for a second, her glare's softened but still suspicious.

"Perhaps. However that jest was not funny."

"Ouch. Well anyway, I guess I'm your master then. Though I use that term loosely." Her eyebrows rise a little. It's as if she's questioning me. I oblige by answering. "I did not intend to summon you. Also I frankly don't think I should be anybody's master considering I can't even master my own life." She actually nods at this. She nods. At this. Couldn't even deny it for my self-esteem?!

"Since you're a Heroic Spirit that means this is about the Holy Grail War." She nods at this as well. Confirming my deduction. Now for the final point, and my reason for this long spiel. "I suggest you leave and try to find a better master if you intend to win."

At this I sit back down and resume browsing through the channels of the television. The girl surprises me by speaking up. I had expected her to just storm out.

"I am afraid it is not that simple. If you summoned me you are my Master." Well, the command spells confirm that. At least that's what I'm assuming is now on my hand. "Only your death could change that. Unless you would rather forfeit your command spells and seek refuge with the church. Though in that case I would lose my chance at obtaining the Grail."

She seems sad at this statement.

"I ain't going to no church." I state this without facing her.

Then I turn to face her, with a smirk on my face.

"From what I've read of this war I understand it's like a Battle Royale concept." Great movie and book. I recommend it to any that're interested in seeing Japanese schoolgirls murder each other. "That would mean a fight to the death." Kind of stating the obvious. What would a war be without killing? A whole lot better, I can tell you that.

"Which means I forfeit and gamble that the church can keep me safe when they probably don't give a damn about a heathen like me, or I grudgingly accept this as something to make life less boring for a change and go with the flow." Yeah, my options sound very limited when I think about it. "A simple nut up or shut up moment. Though I'll make it clear right now as to what I think about this."

I look her directly in the eye.

"What's the point of winning some stupid grail? I have plenty of paper cups."

I expected for her to protest at such an idiotic remark. Instead she tries to hide a fit of laughter. Even I don't consider it funny.

At this I turn off the television and stand up to face her.

"Well then." I say this with an even cockier smirk on my face.

"I didn't think you'd actually laugh at that."

"I did not laugh."

"You did. I heard you." She blushes at this.

"So, what's your name?"

"Saber."

"Damn, wasn't expecting to summon a Heroic Spirit, especially not one from the strongest class of Servant." She smiles at this.

"I must be a badass." At this she grimaces.

"Joking, joking. So what's your actual name?"

This seems to shock Saber. She starts to smile though.

"My true name? I would happily tell you." Now where's the 'but'? "It'd be a disaster if the enemy discovered it though." There it is! "But that would not deter me in battle." She says this rather hastily, as if she's trying to prove her worth to me. Kind of pointless this early on. "Still, I think I will share my true identity with you once I have learned a little bit more about you." The way she says all this makes me think she's just weighed the pros and cons of the scenario.

"Fair enough."

"What is your name Master?"

"Let's drop the whole 'master/servant' thing ok?"

She seems puzzled at this.

"That is unnecessary, you are my Master and I am your Servant." Yeah, see that's not something you should go around saying in public. Or private for that matter. At least not to me. "There is no need for honorifics as we are equals." The sheer image of her referring to me as 'onii-sama' practically cause me to break into a cold sweat. "Yet it still seems appropriate to refer to you as Master."

"Like I said, I'm no master, I can't even deal with my own problems so I don't have the right to be the Master of a legendary spirit like yourself." I take a deep breath and think for a moment. The question of what to call our relationship seems an important one to answer. A suitable word pops into my head, and I snap my fingers, startling Saber slightly. "I got it. How about we be partners? Instead of a master and servant we could be actual equals." It doesn't matter if you say we're equals. Calling someone 'master' doesn't make you anything more than a slave. "50/50 so to speak. I mean, in battle I'd be pretty useless but I can strike up a mean motivational cheer. That should be enough for us to be associates or partners, like with a business deal."

She listens to this, smiling slightly at the mention of me cheering her. I suppose my sense of humor has finally become tolerable to her.

"While it is unnecessary and unorthodox, I see no harm in such a partnership."

"Great. The name's Dante Di Prinzi. Just Dante would be preferable."

She looked slightly surprised at this. I had no clue why. It's an alias of course. There's no reason for her to know my real name. Dante's from the famous author. As well as the video game character. Di Prinzi is a reference to Machiavelli's 'The Prince' as well as a tongue and cheek allusion to how I could have lived.

"Your name. . . ."

"It's Italian. My ancestors are from there."

"Italy? Have you ever been there?"

"Yes."

"How is it?"

"Decent, I guess."

"The people and the cities, what do they look like now?"

Now?

"Same as anywhere else. Couldn't wait to leave the place."

"Why would you leave?!"

I was surprised by her alarm. "It's unimportant. Maybe I'll tell you once I get to learn a bit more about you."

She smiles at my reference to what she said. Both of us know that if that's to be taken word for word that neither of us will ever know anything about the other. I doubt she cares. I really don't.

"So Saber, why is it that you want the Grail?" Alarm crosses her face.

"Why do you ask such a question?"

"No reason really, just curious. Though when I think about it wouldn't it be important to know what motivates my partner?" Motive's always important. Especially considering she's willing to kill for her wish. "If your goal is something like the destruction of humankind I of course have to disagree with it. Or at least alter it to 'the destruction of humankind except for Dante Di Prinzi because he's an ok guy'."

My awful joke goes right over her head.

"No it is nothing like that, the destruction of mankind is something I would not ever wish for. It would end much of the beauty in this world."

"Well as long as we're clear that your wish won't be something evil."

"Why is it that you ask as to what my wish would be when the war has not even begun yet?"

"It's simple. We're going to win. No matter what."

She flashes a large smile at this. I have no clue as to why. If we don't win we die. Which also means if we don't kill we die. Not sure how I feel about that. Blood is hard to wash off.

"Your determination is admirable. You are lucky to have summoned me as your servant. Any other spirit would make it so your words had no ground to back them."

"Well it's good to see I summoned a humble spirit after all. Your modesty is so pleasing to hear." I say this with as much sarcasm I can muster.

She notes my tone. "Do not push your luck Master." Her harsh tone then softens. "What is it that you desire from the Grail?"

"Maybe I should ask the Grail to end that stupid little tradition of using Master and Servant."

"I understand, Dante. What is your actual wish?"

"I don't have one. There's no need to rely on divine intervention." Last time I did that I sat around like a dipshit with my finger up my ass. And in the end nothing happened. Big surprise. "Anything I could desire is surely capable of obtaining with my own actions." The image of my Teacher flashes into my mind. I push it away. I don't think he would want me to bring him back. Not like that.

She smiles at this again. "I see. So I have been summoned by a magus that does not desire the Grail yet insists he will win. I might have been wrong about you."

"I'll take that as a compliment. For what it's worth I believe my initial judgment of you to have been improper." This being said, I rub my hands together. Time for the best part. "Now, Saber, would you like anything to drink?"

"Drink?"

I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. "Yeah I think I might have some bottles of water in here, maybe a soda? I'd offer you a beer but. . . ."

"That is unnecessary I am a Servant therefore I do not need food nor drink to sustain myself." She sounds as if she's reading off a line from her instruction manual. "Even sleep in not needed. That is as long as you supply magical energy to me."

I sigh and close the fridge. "Well yeah I suppose I can do that, but it's kind of going to be awkward if you act like that." She stares at me suspiciously.

"What do you mean in saying it would be awkward. I am a Servant it makes complete sense for me to not need such things."

"Ok, it'd be awkward because even though you're a Servant you look like a regular human. Except for the fact that you're wearing a dress that shows your underwear. That's not that normal." She looks upset that I insulted her dress. I don't really give a damn. Put on some pants woman.

"Plus, wouldn't it be better for us to save the use of energy until battle? That way I can provide a larger abundance of magic to aid you when we need it most instead of wasting it." That sounds like it makes sense. At least in my head it sounds like a good argument to make. "Besides I wouldn't exactly trust in my prana anyway, I only summoned you by accident thanks to the knife acting as a catalyst. This scenario we are in is largely a matter of coincidence."

"What do you mean? Are you not a magus?"

"I am. Definitely not the most outstanding one. Especially considering how I use unconventional tactics. But I'm a magus."

She seems to relax at this.

"It might be inconvenient but think of it like this. If you act like a normal human it might throw off our enemies." Granted that assumes she can act like a normal human. I'm not really sure if that's possible.

"That seems illogical due to the act of eating and drinking being something that will occur in a private setting." So what you're saying is, you won't eat off the dollar menu. And that I'm going to have to cook for you. Goddammit. "However, I understand that for whatever reason you are adamant about this so I will comply to avoid needless bickering."

"That's appreciated."

"Now, what is this talk of a catalyst? What knife?"

"Well it was a relic I suppose, I accidentally cut myself when handling it and it activated using the magic in my blood. And poof you're here." I gesture at the blade that's still lying on the floor. Saber glances at it before grimacing. Then she picks it up and sort of caresses it.

"Watch how you handle it, it's sharp." I realize this is an idiotic thing for me to say considering she's a Heroic Spirit, it's a knife, and she's the class of Saber. She doesn't seem to hear me. Then she turns to me.

"Where did you get this?"

"A gift from a friend." A complete lie of course, but she doesn't need to know the truth. "Why, do you recognize it?"

"I do. The energy it gives off is connected to me. The memories it brings are sad."

"I can dispose of it if you'd like."

"That is unnecessary. I could not ask you to destroy a possession you own."

"I know what it's like to remember things you'd rather forget. I can at least put it somewhere where you don't have to see it in the open."

I carefully extract the knife from her hands and climb the stairs to the second floor. Then I climb a smaller set of stairs to the attic. There's several ominous boxes and cases packed in this room. A lot of literature pertaining to magic. A lot of things that could cause me trouble if they were found by the local authorities. I open a small wooden box that contains stacks of scrolls and place the knife on top of them before closing the box again. Then I make my way back down the first floor.

Saber's still standing up, it seems she's waiting for me to return.

"Thank you." She says the words quietly to the point where I have to almost strain myself to hear her.

"No problem. You know you can sit down right?"

She glances at the nearby chair before approaching it and gracefully lowering herself onto it.

"So, what'd you say you wanted to drink?" She smiles at me. I know she never gave me an answer and she knows I know.

"Do you have wine?"

I smirk at this.

"Wasn't expecting you to actually be the type to drink alcohol. Of course I have wine. Though I'm afraid I lack wine glasses. And the wine's kind of cheap."

"That is fine. Usually I would insist on the highest grade of drink but since it is clear you lack the finances I will refrain from being ungrateful." Is she calling me poor?

"Uh, gee thanks?" I pull out two bottles of red wine from the fridge and grab a paper cup from the box they're in that's right next to the plastic forks on the fridge. I hand her the cup before popping the cork of her bottle off with my knife and delicately pouring her a glass.

"My lady I hope this grade of cheap drink will not insult your tastes too much." Surprisingly I hadn't said that in the mocking tone I'd first intended to. She smiles at me.

"Do not worry too much, I will not spit it out even if it insults my taste buds."

I finish pouring before placing the bottle on the table in front of her. The fact that she's serious when she says such things leads me to believe that whoever she was in her previous life her lifestyle must have been that of the upper class. I sit down at the chair across from her.

She swirls the liquid around in the cup before delicately lifting it up to her lips and taking a slow sip. Apparently the alcohol is satisfactory to her tastes as she makes a low humming sound and smiles. That or else she was just being polite.

I raise my bottle of wine.

"I propose a toast. To a prosperous partnership."

She raises her cup. "And to a swift victory in this war. May our enemies tremble at our presence."

My bottle and her cup briefly make contact when we tap them together and then I begin the process of drinking the rest of the wine straight out of the bottle while she slowly and carefully sips hers.

After that, the rest is a blur.

* * *

**AN: As you can see, I'm currently rewritting/rephrasing all of the chapters one by one. Think of it like you would an update to your favorite video game. It's going to really buff the word count. The second chapter (which was originally around 6,000 words) is already at 10,000+ and counting. I'm going to mainly focus on adding things instead of outright changing them, but there will be a few massive changes. I'll list them off. Feel free to offer any ideas, I'd be much obliged. (Semi-spoilers ahead for any who've yet to read past this chapter.)**

**-All of Chapter 7.**

**-Shinji and Rider's role**

**-The "breakup" between Dante and Nero**

**-Alice's death, and of course a lot of the events afterwards.**

**-Dante's backstory and powers.**

**Thanks for reading! -SB**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I repeat I own nothing but my OC. The Fate series is owned by Type-Moon. My paycheck would be much larger if I did own it. Since it isn't, that means I do not.**

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**Chapter 2- Spears and Spats**

The next morning I wake up to a dry mouth and a headache.

Surrounding me are the leftovers from last night. Apparently in my sound judgment I had decided it to be a good idea to continue drinking after I had finished the wine bottle. The bottle of whiskey that I had taken a shot from was lying on the floor empty, on the table were several cans of beer.

I'm still terribly groggy, so when I first turn and notice the blonde girl sitting across from me and staring at me intensely my mind doesn't understand who she is. All it understands is that she's a solid seven. This is probably even a bit harsh. Understandable considering my scale is biased as hell. I'm more annoyed by people than attracted to them.

My drunken state has me push forward anyway. Alcohol removes all restrictions.

"Well hello there beautiful. I must either still be asleep or else I'm even more drunk than I thought for someone as gorgeous as you to be in my presence."

The girl beams a bright smile at me.

"Praetor, I did not know that you had a charming side to your abrasive personality. Please, by all means, continue complimenting my image."

As soon as she speaks my brain registers who she is. The realization makes me groan.

"Oh fuck it's you. Forget everything I just said. I apologize, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"It is quite alright Praetor, if anything I believe you should continue praising me. It is most pleasing to hear."

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head. So what? You're easy on the eyes. It's not like that'll help you in this war."

She offers me a large grin.

"That is incorrect Praetor. Beauty will allow us to win this war. Since I radiate beauty and have skill of the utmost caliber servant we shall win this war without any concern."

She closes her eyes and raises her chin in the air to make herself appear larger, while also waving her arms around like an actor on stage as she says this. Even though her response makes no sense to me I still smile at the way she says it. It'd be a shame to tell someone so convinced that their right to the point that they're almost childlike, that they're logic is wrong.

"Why are you calling me Praetor? Didn't I ask you to call me Dante?"

Reopening her eyes, she looks at me with slight confusion. Then realization hits her. I suppose she hadn't realized that she'd called me Praetor. A slight blush forms on her cheeks out of something akin to embarrassment. Then she starts waving her hands at me in a panicked state.

"What is it you are talking about?! I called you no such thing!"

You did. I heard you. Ugh what an awful liar.

"Praetor. That's what you called me. It's a title in Ancient Rome for either a military commander or a member of the magistrate. That's what you called me. Though it's not like I mind. At least it's not 'Master'. If anything being called Praetor would be something I'd take as a compliment."

At this her face softens in relief. Then it tenses up again and she almost pouts at me.

"Do not let such a thing go to your head! I am still not convinced that you are worthy of being my partner in this conflict. You summoned me by accident and then insulted me without mercy. You are still lucky that I do not strike you down!"

As she says this she draws her crimson sword and makes a pose pointing it at the ceiling.

"We're still going on about this? I'm an antisocial introverted bastard. You barging in here destroyed the sanctity of my personal bubble. I apologize for being so brash. It was my mistake to criticize such a beautiful maiden for something they had no control over."

She smiled again at this.

"Very well then. I accept your apology. There may still be hope for you yet Praetor."

"So this Praetor thing basically means you're from Ancient Rome. Specifically a position in the government of Ancient Rome. You're a female so this seems strange. However since history is often fabricated it's still possible." Her expression turns sheepish.

Before she can respond I continue.

"Don't ask why I know this. History is something I value so it's something I've kept well educated on. My teacher stressed the importance of learning from the past's mistakes. And don't worry. I understand the conditions we set. Your identity is yours to know. I will intrude no further without your consent. I'm just a bit glad, that's all."

Again she softens, with a content sigh of relief. "Praetor, why are you glad?"

I chuckle slightly at her question. "It's quite simple. It's been ages since I've been able interact with someone of my nationality. I'm American first and foremost, but my ancestors emigrated from Italy. Even though we're probably a few millennia apart there's still some understanding between the two of us. At least I hope there is."

I say this with a small smile.

She returns the smile and starts laughing loudly.

"Oh, what is it?"

"It is nothing Praetor, I'm just happy you're happy."

I snort at her response before standing up and stretching.

"So, did you sleep in that chair all night?"

"No. I did not sleep at all last night." I'm shocked to hear such a ridiculous thing.

"What?! Why not?" She ignores my shock and replies calmly.

"As I stated it is unnecessary for me to sleep."

I'm about to protest when she continues.

"Besides, Praetor, it was very entertaining to watch you sleep. Your expression looks so content without that scowl darkening your face." Said scowl is now larger than ever.

"Shut it, the booze softens me."

"Well then maybe you should drink even more?"

A mischievous glint is in her eye and her smirk's wider than ever. I can tell I'm being mocked for getting drunk. And also for being so sour. Basically she's insulting my entire sour drunken bum lifestyle. Not cool Saber, not cool.

"Yeah, yeah. Like you have room to talk. I bet you didn't even finish your glass of—"

Before I can finish I glance over to her side of the table.

"What."

Surrounding her are the remaining four bottles of wine that I'd kept in the fridge.

Saber glances at me innocently. "Something wrong?"

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT SOMETHING'S WRONG! YOU DRANK ALL OF IT!"

A mischievous smile crosses her lips.

"It was satisfactory to my tastes. For something so cheap the quality is bearable."

"Well if it was just 'bearable' why'd you have to drink all of it! I've been saving that!"

"For what may I ask Praetor?"

"In case I ever had any. . . ."

I realize how idiotic that sounds and attempt to shut myself up before I can finish. Unfortunately Saber understands what I was going to say.

"Guests? Praetor, am I not a guest in your household? Therefore should you not be trying your best to be an accommodating host?"

"Don't even start with me."

She smirks at me as I sigh and admit defeat. Then I clean up the mess by tossing the empty cans and bottles into the trash. My head's still killing me so I cast a simple spell on myself in an attempt to relieve the hangover. It's one that my teacher taught me. Something he'd picked up as a youth. I have to use it pretty much every day. With the headache and grogginess gone I glance at Saber from the kitchen. She's staring straight ahead patiently waiting for me to return. There's a sense of elegance to her. As I gaze at her Saber notices my attention and turns towards me with a smile. To think last night she was threatening to kill me and I was mistaking her for a prostitute. It's good that we've made amends. I guess.

"Praetor, why do you reside in such a residence?"

Her question shakes me out of my thinking.

"What do you mean?"

"Well as much as I would not like to admit, you summoned me. Therefore as my master you should be of similar stature as I. I assume your personality and appearance are just ways to mask that truth are they not?"

I glance down at myself.

"What do you mean my appearance?"

"Well your clothing. As well as your belongings. Including this house. It seems that since we are of a similar degree and I am perfect, that you should at least be near perfect. Why do you reside in squalor?"

Her inquiry actually confuses me. My teacher had left me everything, and he'd had a substantial savings fund left over. I could be living in one of the higher class neighborhoods right now, smoking pricy cigars and drinking that really expensive wine instead of the stuff you buy at the store for cheap.

"I, I don't know. Maybe it's because this was my teacher's house. He left it to me so it's one of the last things I have to remember him by. I could buy things that were more expensive but I suppose after hanging around him for so long his stinginess rubbed off on me. The man only survived on the bare essentials even though he didn't have to."

She nods at this approvingly.

"I understand. Your admiration for your teacher is quite beautiful. I can only imagine that he was a great man."

"He was. He's the only reason I'm my own man. He sacrificed himself for me when I couldn't give him anything in return but gratitude. And I never showed it that well."

Saber offers me a sympathetic smile. I get up and stretch.

"Well I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed into something else."

"I understand. I will do so as well." I simply stare at her.

"I only have one bathroom."

"I understand. Mixed bathing was common in my time." I again stare at her.

"The key part of that was 'in my time' as in 'in the past and not in the present'. So if you want to bath you can do it after I'm done."

She frowns at me. "But."

"No buts. My house, my rules. That's fair."

She pouts at me. For whatever reason it reminds me of a puppy.

"Fine. I accept your terms, Praetor."

Well hot damn I actually succeeded at winning.

"For now." She smiles at me confidently.

*Sigh.

After a quick shower and a change of clothing I walk downstairs dressed in a navy blue button downed dress shirt and black slacks. My hair is uncharacteristically combed back and pulled into a ponytail so as to resemble some semblance of order. I had even shaved. My work uniform is folded and underneath my armpit. Saber actually utters a low whistle. It annoys me.

"Praetor, you clean up quite nicely." I grunt in response.

"What is the occasion?"

"I'm going to quit my job. I wanted to look nice when I flip them the bird and walk out."

She quizzically cocks her head to the side like an owl. "Why are you quitting?"

"One, it's a boring job. Two, I can't exactly live a normal work schedule when any moment might break into a fight for my life thanks to your arrival. And three, it's not like I need the job for anything but a cover story."

She stares at me in a confused manner but when I don't elaborate she drops it.

"So how long of a walk is it to your workplace? Since I shall be accompanying you."

"It's not far, maybe twenty minutes at. . . . Woah woah woah. What gave you the idea that I'd be taking you with me?"

She glares at me. "I agreed to your previous demand, Praetor. However your safety is at stake in this situation. You need me to accompany you in case of an ambush from the enemy."

"Look, I appreciate the concern. But it's daytime. One of the biggest rules in the game is secrecy. They're not going to attack me in the open with that factor. Besides it's pointless to have you walk all that way just to watch a disgruntled employee curse out his boss. Stay here, take a shower. Relax. It won't be long. I'll be back within an hour I promise."

She looks ready to argue so I grab my wallet off the table and rush out waving goodbye behind me. I barely hesitate to lock the door behind me before I set off down the street.

Half an hour later and I'm free from the shackles of no benefits and low pay. Walking down the street I whistle the tune of one of a hard rock song.

That's when it hits me.

And by 'it' I don't mean some metaphysical wisdom.

I mean something literally smashes into my being and sends me spiraling into a wall.

That's when it hits me.

This time in a metaphysical wisdom sort of way.

In my infinite glory I went in auto drive and took a shortcut home through an alley.

Which separated me from the safety a crowd provides.

What luck that this would end up screwing me over? It's like some higher power is giving me a convenient one finger salute. I didn't know Corporate Commander was this powerful. We're all screwed.

I scramble to get off the ground.

Soon as I make it up I feel a whoosh go past my body and hear something impact into the ground next to me. The sheer strength backing the motion stuns me. Then I snap out of it. And look at what started this turn for the worse.

In front of me stands a girl.

She's got greyish-blue eyes and this obviously dyed reddish-pink hair color. Her overall physique is slim. Especially her assets.

"No wonder I felt like a washboard hit me."

This statement causes the girl to glare at me malevolently. I can feel the violence in her. It radiates through her very being. Like blood does through my veins. I quickly take in the rest of her. She's wearing this strange gothic like dress. There are frills at the elbows, wrists, and the skirt itself. It's colored a weird combination of pink, white, and black. Her shoes are odder. High heels. With big ass pink spikes at the toes sticking straight up. That's a safety hazard. The worst part about her is how I can immediately tell she's unnatural. It's easy. The chick has a pair of horns on her head and a forked tail sticking out from under the skirt. As well as pointed ears. Like a goddamn elf. She reminds me of some type of succubus or demoness.

Now she's sneering at me. "Why have you not started running little pig? It's no fun if you give up so easily. Had I known that I would have killed you with that first blow instead of playing with you."

I can tell from how she said this that she wanted to scare me. It was the equivalent to a cat playing with a mouse. Just with words. Instead she annoys me.

"Babe, I'm not some play thing. I gotta be somewhere, so if you'll excuse me."

I attempt to walk away but the ground gets smashed in front of me. I finally notice what's been causing the damage. The girl's carrying a strange looking spear. Well looks like she's not just a psychotic cosplayer. With that strength she's got to be a Heroic Spirit. That means I'm not going to be able to bluff my way out of this.

"Little pig, you're no fun." She shows her teeth off to me with a wide grin. Then she pulls the spear back and thrusts it at me.

Before I realized what I was doing I'd already reinforced my body with prana and rolled to the side in order to avoid the blow. Then without thinking I sprinted away. Behind me I heard laughter.

Not the good kind of 'ha ha hee hee' laughter.

No, more like the 'mwahahaha' kind.

I didn't know people actually did that. Great she's insane.

As I run I quickly run through my options.

Plan A: Stop running, turn around and attempt to whip out a projected firearm in the chance that I might surprise her with the action enough to get the drop on her. Definitely not going for that plan of action. There'd be no guarantee I could whip up a functional gun even if I tried. Plus I still hadn't exactly managed to conjure bullets, even when I'd made a decent firearm. That would mean I'd have to either pistol-whip this nut job or else attempt to throw the gun at her. Both were extremely idiotic ideas. I doubt it'd even faze this girl.

Plan B was to give up and beg for a quick and merciful death. Screw that, I wasn't going to die on my first day of this war.

Plan C seemed the best bet then. Annoy her with snarky remarks as I kept running, hoping all along the way that I'd be able to get back to Saber. Then Saber could go ahead and. . . .

THUD. I ran right into something while following that train of thought.

(You could say I've been derailed. Ba dum tss. I know, worst joke ever.)

Stifling a groan I looked up and saw that the 'something' was in fact a 'someone'. The one someone I really didn't want to run into.

"Well, uh, fancy running into a lovely lady like yourself in a nondescript alley like this."

The insane chick was looking down at me with a malicious grin on her face. She pointed her spear at me. By now I could only assume she was of the Lancer class of Servant.

"Little pig, I was expecting more from you. You're no fun."

The smile on my face twitched in anger at her words. I thought fast, and gambled my life on one sole idea. I looked over her shoulder and shouted to someone who wasn't there.

"Hey! Assassin, hurry up and kill this lunatic for me. You wouldn't want your Master to die would you?!"

She turned in panic in the direction my words were addressed towards.

I focused as much as possible and projected something I knew I could at least make ammunition for.

A Crosman BB pistol.

It was already loaded with a .177 caliber BB when I made it.

Unlike a bullet, a BB is a simply ball of metal. There's no complexity to it at all. That meant I could make it. A pump pistol has no difficult intricacies either. Meaning I had some type of weapon at least.

Now it all came down to my aim, and exactly how human these Heroic Spirits were. Using my reinforced muscles I quickly pumped the pistol to a satisfactory state by the time Lancer started turning back towards me in confusion. This move also rode on whether or not this Lancer had any defense against projectiles. If she was a Servant that had dealt with arrows in their previous life then this would be pointless. Still, it was better than nothing, and I was willing to gamble my life instead of simply folding under pressure.

I squeezed the trigger.

The projectile was propelled out of the pistol's barrel.

My aim was true. All I could do was hope the age old reflex to protect one's eyes came into play here. Luckily it did. Lancer didn't think to make an attempt to block the pellet with her spear. That or she couldn't.

Instead she firmly placed both her hands over her eyes stopping the BB from causing any damage. Just for luck I chucked the pistol at her head as well.

In that split second from firing the pellet to her shielding herself I'd already gotten up and bolted away from her. I put all my remaining prana into my physical form. I was pushing myself to the limit. My legs screamed from the unnatural amounts of stress they had to work against.

I felt my tendons tear. But I kept running. My nerves were on fire.

I bit down on my lip and continued fleeing. I heard a loud scream from behind me. Followed by an angry flurry of words that I couldn't make out. Lancer sounded like the rich girl that was told she couldn't have what she wanted.

I still felt her presence though. And I felt her rushing towards me.

My speed was unnatural. Her's was supernatural.

I kept running.

The trigger in my mind was pulled yet again. This time harder than usual. I accessed reserves of prana I'd stored within myself. A tool my teacher had taught me. And something typical mages used something like jewels for. I didn't need to rely on gems.

I was like a goddamn camel.

Except instead of water it was prana. And instead of having a hump like Quasimodo I simply kept energy in a reserve part of my mind. Sure it was only a small amount. Sure it might cause me permanent brain damage. But this was another case of gambling it all in the hopes of living another day. It allowed for me to sprint even faster for a short burst, to the point that I almost rivaled Lancer in speed.

My muscles were tearing throughout my body. By now internal bleeding had set in. I was pretty sure one of my lungs had collapsed as well. Maybe, maybe not. I was hoping I could heal most of it later on. I just had to survive this encounter.

Part of me wanted to reach for my MP3 and turn on something, anything, so if I died I'd at least die to badass music.

But I wasn't an idiot.

Well I was, just not that big of an idiot.

If I even attempt to move my arms it'd not only slow me down, but possible break the arm itself. I felt like this is what astronauts dealt with when they went into a centrifuge to train against high g-forces. I'd kill myself if I kept this up for too long.

I kept running. My consciousness was starting to waver at this point.

I no longer knew what I was doing. I'd forgotten about the insane Servant chasing me. I'd forgotten about where I was running to. The act of running became the only thing I vaguely understood. It was like that part of Forrest Gump where he just runs to run.

Then a small glimmer of comprehension entered my fading brain when I realized I was right in front of my house.

I heard a squeal of joy from behind me that I assumed was Lancer. She'd caught up to me.

Then the door opened. Saber stepped out.

She clearly wasn't happy. She also looked concerned.

I didn't know why.

A brief jab of pain entered my lower midsection.

"Little pig, you can't outrun me."

I didn't have any more time to ponder the situation I was in as at that moment I truly faded out of consciousness.

When I woke up I was terribly confused. I managed to push myself into a sitting position. I could sense that I was inside. The room was dark, but the feeling of recognition I had told me I was probably in my house. The fact that I was on a bed told me I was in my bedroom. I didn't know how or why I was in my bedroom. All I remembered was quitting my job. Looking around the room I noticed something else. One of the chairs from the dining room had been moved into this room. Saber was sitting in it. It didn't take long for her to notice my awakening. She got up and moved towards me without a word. I attempted to get out of bed but when I tried to stand my legs crumpled.

"Praetor, you need to rest." I looked at her. With her open palm she was lightly pushing me back into a laying position.

"Saber, what happened?"

"I will explain later."

I didn't argue. Her tone was commanding. But her eyes were pleading. I lie down and fell back into slumber. When I next awoke I felt much more capable. My thoughts weren't as cloudy as they had been. I felt less groggy. I attempted to get up. After testing my strength I found I could stand. My legs were sore but they held. Saber was sitting in the chair yet again. Her posture was tense. Her expression worried. I didn't know why. She was sitting with her eyes closed so she didn't notice my movements. Then they opened. Shock was the first emotion I noticed on her face. Followed by relief, confusion, and fury. In that order.

"Praetor. You are awake." The way she says this would scare a normal man. Pure unfiltered rage.

But I am no mere mortal man. I am a grade-A jackass. Anger directed towards me rolls of me like water off a duck's back.

"Saber. What happened?"

She glared at me for a moment before speaking. "Your assurance that there was to be no danger ended up being proven false."

"Well I know that. What happened besides that? Particularly when I was unconscious."

"The Servant that I can only assume was Lancer impaled you upon her weapon."

"Impaled me?"

"Yes, did I not just say that?" Her words were criticizing. She was obviously pissed with me. I didn't know why. Actually I did but I really didn't have the patience or courtesy to feel regret. If I had known that those fighting in this war didn't care about the whole 'fighting at night so as not to be detected' rule I wouldn't have gone alone. I looked down upon myself. There was a decent scar on my body. Right above my hip. Where my appendix would have been.

"Impaled. Yeah, I guess I kind of recall that."

"I am surprised you are not dead."

"Really? I'm not. I had appendicitis as a kid, so it's not like she'd rupture anything. That wasn't a kill shot. For one her weapon is pitiful at best. The design's mediocre and it's obviously made to look more intimidating then it actually is. A better spear would have been barbed. That way the thrust would have torn through the wound when she pulled out as well. It would have been more likely that I would have died in that scenario. The placement of her attack makes me think that either she wasn't trying to kill me, or the more likely reason being that she just isn't that skilled as a Lancer."

Saber looks at me like I'm insane.

"Praetor, how can you make light of the enemy? The weapon of a Heroic Spirit is what defines us in battle. The design of it matters little when the user has unimaginable power. How can you mock someone who could have potentially killed you?"

"Ok, first of all you obviously haven't realized who exactly it is you're talking too. I can mock anyone. That's my shtick. I'll use the term lightly, but I had a 'conversation' of sorts with her. Her personality strikes me as unstable. To the point where she would seem much more suited to a Berserker class than that of Lancer's."

"Then Praetor, what stops her from being Berserker and not Lancer?"

"That's a decent question blondie. If she was Berserker I'd assume she'd lose most of her ability to converse due to the Mad Enhancement ability. Plus she wouldn't have fallen for my trick and instead proceeded to simply execute me on the spot."

"What 'trick' are you talking about?"

"I projected a weapon and fired it at her eyes in the hopes that she'd block it. When she did I bolted."

She looks at me with an expression I can only describe as a mix between doubt, surprise and approval.

The doubt is the first thing she asks of. "Did you really do that Praetor?"

"Yes. Why would I lie?"

She blankly stared at me. Then she deadpanned her response. "Why do you do half the things you do?"

I opened my mouth and gaped at her like a fish.

I couldn't think of a proper comeback.

So I resorted to the maturity of an elementary school student.

"Because your mom!"

This ended up resorting in her eye twitching several times in ire. Her face formed into a scowl and she started to pull out her sword.

"Never bring up my mother. You know nothing of her. Do it again and I swear I will slay you where you stand."

I waved my hands frantically. "I kid! I kid!"

She slowly lowered her sword.

Well someone has mommy issues.

I nervously cough.

"So, uh, what happened after I got briefly turned into a human shish kabob?"

She continued to glare at me, testing whether or not I was being genuine with my question. I frantically waved my hands in the air in an attempt to show I was harmless. I even prayed to the great Joe Pesci in the hope that it'd help. Why Joe Pesci? You may ask this. It's simple. You ever see that guy? He gets shit done. At least according to a certain brilliant comedian.

Either my message was broadcasted or else Saber simply gave up on he attempts to understand me as she answered my question. She just couldn't hold off a sigh before doing so though.

"After you fell to the ground I assumed she had killed you. I charged her where she stood but she dodged and fled from me. The only thing that stopped me from giving chase was when I noticed you were still breathing. I brought you inside and laid you on the bed to rest. I suppose I could have attempted to treat your wounds. My Imperial Privilege would have allowed me to do so with some success. However your wounds started healing by themselves to some extent. I assume either this building is surrounded by some type of healing boundary field or else Praetor, it is you that is the cause of this anomaly. Either way it seems this enigma matters little, you are alive and well. Therefore we must hunt down Lancer and retaliate for her arrogance. One does not simply attack my allies and expect mercy."

"Mind if I use that for a meme?"

She stared at me for a while. "What is this 'meme'?"

I just groaned in response. "I don't think a direct assault against Lancer would be the best choice."

She seemed upset at this. "Why? You said it yourself that she is a pitiful example for a Lancer class Servant. She should be of no concern in a direct fight. Are you simply not man enough to risk it?! It seems I was wrong about you."

In response I simply stared at her.

Gone were my snarky jokes and lackadaisical nature.

She continued with something that became a sort of rant.

"Why did I even choose to enter this war at your side?! The impression I had received from you while residing in the Throne of Heroes was that of a noble outcast who needed only a small push to reach their potential! I knew nothing of you but on that baseless hope alone I answered your summoning! Now here we are, and you almost fall in battle by a surprise attack at the hands of a weak opponent on the first day! What type of Master are you! We will surely lose this war! I have seen nothing of your skill as a mage yet I doubt I need to when you describe yourself as 'mediocre'. You consistently mock both I and this situation we are both in. All I need from you is a single affirmative choice and you continue with these pointless negative responses! Are you that much of a coward! Imagine if the teacher you speak of so highly were to see you now, he'd be. . . ."

I cut her off when I start chuckling darkly.

Without either of us realizing it I'd materialized a firearm into reality.

Now it was pointing at her.

I recognized it as a Smith &amp; Wesson Model 500.

One of the strongest handguns in the world, and probably the strongest revolver in existence.

At least from America.

I bet even a Heroic Spirit would go down with enough fatal hits from this gun.

I looked her right in the eye while laughing. She was glaring at me. Then she smirked.

"Who is it that you think you will impress with such a weapon. That is just a simple form of overcompensating. . . ."

I pulled the trigger.

The recoil was intense, I almost hit myself in the face with the gun. It definitely kicked like a mule.

The noise from the shot silenced her.

That's when I noticed that I'd actually been able to project a functional bullet. That had to have been the first time. Usually they just blew up in my face or else didn't fire at all.

I had stopped laughing.

The shot had been fired over her shoulder. The blast made my ears ring. If she had been a normal human it would have probably deafened her. The wall behind her had a large hole blown into it.

To her credit she didn't even flinch. Saber showed no fear. Either she was confident in herself, didn't take me seriously, or else was smart enough to know that I didn't intend to harm her.

Only to make her shut the fuck up.

I locked eyes with her. My honey colored eyes gazing into her emerald ones. I saw my face in her eyes. Gone was the usual smirk on my lips. Instead they were creased into a grim line. My eyes themselves appeared uninterested, if not a little bored. My voice was monotone.

"I suggest you show some humility. You lack any right to criticize me. Especially by bringing up someone that you never knew and pretending you know how they would view me."

She started to open her mouth but I shot off another round. This time I managed the recoil better. It only jumped up about three inches. The shot caused her to bite her lip and stay quiet. Something that I didn't expect.

"But, you are right."

This surprises her.

"Not with all you said, but some of it. I will attempt to restrain myself more often. You are my partner, therefore I should not exploit you and take you for granted. It was unwise of me to wander around alone. I also will attempt to be more serious when the situation demands it. Where you are wrong is with deeming me a coward. I am no coward. I find a direct assault against Lancer to be foolish. Especially when we would be basing all our tactics on fighting her based on a possible faulty evaluation I made. Not only that but we know nothing of her Noble Phantasm or her identity. She could hold a trump card up her sleeve. Something that could catch you off guard. Then there's also the matter of her Master. He or she hasn't revealed themselves so we know nothing of their abilities in combat. I find that especially important considering I'd most likely have to fight them while you handle Lancer. Unless of course you'd like to fight them both at the same time while also defending me? Of course that would require even the best of warriors to consistently be focusing on three points that differ in how they should be handled. Or do you think you would be better simply abandoning me and going at it by yourself? That would mean you'd be without a supply of prana, which means if your Noble Phantasm is particularly draining and would have to be used in the battle you might actually kill yourself from the effort. It's your choice though. I'm just the coward."

The revolver disappears from my hand. Saber and I continue our stare down. She seems to be searching for something out of me. Then she smiles.

"I understand Praetor."

I nod in affirmation.

"Thank you. I apologize for everything."

She waves it off.

"It is nothing. What is more important right now is to decide our next course of action."

"I agree. The first thing would be to obtain supplies. That way it would limit prana consumption and use on both our parts. Then we scout the city. If we're lucky we'll either encounter another Servant or else Lancer and possibly her Master."

"Then what?"

My smirk returns.

"Then we win."

* * *

**Well that's another chapter. On to the next one. From here on out I'm planning on the interactions with Saber to be a tad less heated. Sure they'll be occasional jabs here and there but for the most part I want her and Dante to come to an understanding. The value of teamwork! Bonus points to anyone who notices the less obvious references. -SB**

**P.S. In order to answer the question of "What War is this?" I'll simply say that this is basically a composite of several things. Characters from the Fate Extra games, setting from Fate Stay Night, and situations I basically come up with as I continue. With a character like Dante I can't make it predictable and follow a little old thing like 'original plot material' now can I? It wouldn't do his ridiculous nature justice. I'd like to thank all of you who took the time to follow or favorite this story. I'd like to give a special thanks to all who reviewed. Cheers to all of you. -SB  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Day 543- Things have not changed, all my attempts have failed and I still do not own anything besides my OC in this story. Type-Moon continues to retain control of what is rightfully their's. Dangit.**

* * *

**Chapter 3- Guns and Guts**

The remainder of the day was spent visiting the local stores and purchasing much needed supplies for the household.

Saber had agreed to act as normal as possible but had refused to change clothing.

Well at first she did.

Then after about an hour of arguing she changed into some type of golden armor that stood out even more. I didn't even know where it came from. Just 'poof' and she'd changed her look. It was even worse than the translucent skirt since it hardly covered her breasts.

My initial comment of "Nice tits" caused her to punch me in the gut and change. I simply agreed that her attire didn't matter. Though the police might disagree. I suppose it wasn't as bad as her being completely naked.

The actual act of shopping wasn't as bad as I expected.

Sure I ended up spending more than I wanted when Saber started grabbing anything that interested her.

Sure I ended up being dragged into dozens of stores and ended up buying things I didn't want.

And yeah, maybe I did have to deal with the shame of women glaring at me like I was sexually assaulting Saber while gazing at her with pity.

Along with men glaring at me because they envied me and gazing at Saber with lust.

But I had to look at the positive.

At least I had alcohol now.

I ended up having to make several trips to and from the house in order to carry all of it back. I'd have brought the car in the garage if the market hadn't been just a short walk away. I kind of regretted it after all the walking.

My body was still horribly sore from the situation with Lancer. It would have been less effort had Saber assisted me. Instead she wandered off in the stores with wide eyes, returning with more goods that we 'needed'.

It was like dealing with a child in a toy store. I was more exhausted after it was over than I had been after being made into a human pin cushion.

The worst part was when we walked past a karaoke bar.

I ended up drinking.

Saber tried to sing karaoke.

The result made me drink until I passed out.

When I woke up I half expected to have permanent marker all over my face. Instead she was still singing. Apparently the crowd of middle-aged men loved her. Even though I was drunk I knew it wasn't because of her singing. No her singing made me feel like my eardrums were being thrown into a blender.

This was coming from a guy who used firearms like the Model 500 without hearing protection. Sure I wasn't a professional Russian, but I'd handled painful noises. But hearing her singing made almost made me repent for my sins. Almost, but not quite.

The real reason she was getting so much support was obvious. Take a pretty girl and dress her in something revealing, it doesn't matter how awful her singing is her fans will love her. Just look at some of the recent pop artists if you need an example.

I tried to plug my ears as I continued drinking, hoping to escape from the awful noise by drinking myself into oblivion.

After that I shuffled home drunk with Saber at my side.

She was positively glowing from all the praise she received. Apparently she considered herself some type of artist. Go figure.

I hoped her painting skills were better than her singing.

After all was said and done there was enough food to last us for a few weeks. I ended up buying actual utensils and glassware after Saber argued for a while. I held out enough to refuse buying dinnerware. There was a sense of loyalty in defending my friend the paper plate. I had to buy cookware though. She insisted that she'd only eat if the food was decent. Which meant to avoid eating in front of someone who simply sat there staring at me awkwardly I had to actually attempt to cook.

She hit me where it hurt.

My stomach.

Ramen, TV dinners, frozen pizzas, and macaroni and cheese were all deemed insufficient. It'd been the only substance I had consumed for years. Even though I lacked an appetite that didn't mean I couldn't come to enjoy what I ate. I almost felt a sense of comradeship with those packages of cheap foods that tasted like plastic and false promises.

They were like family.

When Saber threw them out I almost cried.

Ok maybe I did cry.

Just a little.

I did end up rebelling a bit when I just replaced the thrown out TV dinners. It was difficult to smuggle them inside, but I pulled it off. No one tells me what to eat.

I ended up purchasing some furniture as well. The store sent over some workers who unloaded the stuff. Two recliners, a couch, a queen sized bed, television set, a nightstand, and a lamp. I spent a few hours moving stuff out of the attic and into the garage. Then I moved in the furniture and basically set up a guest room for Saber.

She ended up protesting. I'd gotten away with the moving part without her interfering because she'd discovered the television. I had to pry her away from it and explain that I set up a room for her. She started arguing that she needed to stay in my room while I slept. It was a creepy thought but I ended up giving in when she declared she'd simply enter my room after I fell asleep. Her reason for the argument was at least logical. She needed to protect me while I slept and being in the same room meant she'd be able to act quickly if a Servant like Assassin entered the picture. I had argued anyway simply because my manhood felt questioned since I'd given into her demands a lot throughout the day. Maybe she was right and I was overcompensating. *Shudder.

After everything was set up each of us were sitting in the recliners in the attic across from each other. We had to discuss our strategy for this war.

"Praetor, you do understand that she will return? She knows where we reside. It is only a matter of time before her and her master take advantage of this."

"I know. We'll be ready for them."

"It is good to hear you are confident Praetor. Do you have any ideas on how we should handle them when they inevitably arrive?"

"Well first we have to tell them to take off their shoes before they come inside."

She stares at me for a moment before she realizes I'm joking. Then she offers an awkward laugh. I wish she'd just ignored me.

"On a serious note, why don't we split up our roles?"

She stared at me questioningly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well if I can figure out how to project properly by the time they show up then I'll be best fighting from a distance. Probably medium range since I have no intentions of being useless. Since you're the Saber class you're best in close-quarters combat. That means you'll have to keep them close to you and far from me and in turn I can offer some 'covering fire' so to speak as a distraction."

"Praetor, are you sure you can properly create one of your weapons when the time comes?"

"Well I can try." In response I channel prana throughout my body and make a 9mm bullet in my hand. I roll it around a few times.

"The shape's right. For whatever reason I used to have problems making these. I did it like it was second nature when you ranted at me. Now it's easy. I guess it's like riding a bike, once you get it down you never forget. All you have to do is practice and become better at it. The problem I always was having was in forming the bullet's propellant. I kept thinking in big terms. I tried to create the entire bullet without thinking of the individual parts. I'd always overlook the propellant. Meaning the primer wouldn't ignite anything. I don't know why but it just clicked in my mind when I did it. It's like a schematic. A blueprint. I know the basic outline of making a bullet. I know the different calibers and how they differ. I just didn't know how to make it. If that makes any sense. It's quite simply now that I think about it. I kept thinking of a bullet as a single entity. It's not. The bullet's the tip. Then there's the case with the propellant, the primer that sets it off, and a rim that allows the guns extractor to eject the casing with a firearm that uses a magazine. All these pieces come together like a puzzle. I have the bullets. Now all I need are the guns. I think I can do it. If I look at it the same way all I have to do is think of all the intricacies a firearm entails. Unfortunately some are quite complex. There's a lot that goes into building these weapons. It's not like a sword where there's only the hilt, pommel, and blade. Even the most simplistic firearms will fail if all the pieces don't come into play perfectly. If a piece isn't shaved down enough the entire gun could be a dud, or worse it could detonate in my hand. The same can be said with making bullets. Which is why the propellant is so important. If it's not proportioned properly there's going to be consequences. But I think I have that aspect down. Making the weapon to fire them is what's going to take time and practice."

Saber's intently listening to my explanation. It appears I have her attention.

As an example I start constructing something I'd pictured in my head throughout the day.

A Beretta 92A1. An improved model of the pistols the U.S. military designate using the term M9.

In my head I build the gun but in reality it comes together all at once. I alter the single 9mm I created, turning it into a blank. It's inserted into the pistol's magazine. Racking the slide I chamber the round. I pull the trigger while pointing at the floor. The gun discharges the round but fails to eject it. This ends up jamming the gun. I attempt to check it over and realize I made several miscalculations with the dimensions of not only the slide, but the hammer and even the magazine. I'm lucky it fired at all.

I look to Saber. She's frowning. The gunshot must have been unpleasant in our close proximity.

"Well I suppose I could just constantly spawn a new one after firing a single shot. But that'd waste a lot of prana." I sigh.

"I think I can figure it out. But I'm not even sure this will do anything to a Heroic Spirit. I'm going to have to think bigger."

Saber continues to stare at me. "Praetor, how are you able to do this?"

I look up from the handgun in my hand. Her question startles me.

"I. . . I don't really know. Magi usually have a specific form of magic assigned to their family line. For a long time I thought mine was that of metal. Since I could make, well guns. But the fact that I can create the necessary propellant for a bullet as well as the wood or plastic that usually is seen used in manufacturing a firearm along with the metal makes me think it's something else."

She smiles at me. "Perhaps you simply can create all that pertains to that specific type of weapon."

"That. . . actually makes some sense, but there's still the fact that most magi frown on the use of firearms as they're seen as unrefined and barbaric. There's only been a few who actually have no qualms with their use. I don't know what my family's crest was but I doubt it was that of the gun."

"Perhaps you inherited the crest of your teacher?"

I stare at her. I don't know why I didn't realize it. Damn I didn't expect Saber of all people to be smart.

"You may be on to something there. I don't think magic crests are determined simply by blood. I mean it helps, but it's not something that's unbreakable. If he did give it to that would make a lot of sense. He had no problem using guns and I never knew how he used magic since he never demonstrated and only lectured. The problem is how he would implant it without me knowing. And it's highly unlikely that my body would adapt and accept it so easily. Most magus use herbs and medicine to support the process and usually it's done throughout a child's life. Besides I'd have to activate it by thinking about it. I don't think it could simply stay on permanently, and if I did activate it wouldn't I notice the glowing magic circuits?"

Saber ponders this for a moment. "Praetor I do not know all the answers. I am perfect and at the same level of the gods, but not all-knowing. The answers to your questions are largely unimportant. What is important is the fact that you are capable of doing those things."

I disagree with her, but I understand where she's coming from so I drop the subject. Pondering things that are out of our realm of understanding often leads to wasted time.

"So what do you say? I'm not going to sit back as you charge into battle. It'd just be boring watching you slaughter the competition. I think I can contribute something at least to support you."

She sighs. "Praetor, the enthusiasm you are showing for battle is admirable. However I cannot see you as being capable of handling yourself in a fight without putting yourself in a severe degree of danger. How do you intend to assist me in fighting a Servant? You barely survived your last interaction with one."

"I don't intend to assist you in the fight with Servants. At best I can only annoy them. Until I'm capable of using more powerful means of firepower it'd be a death sentence for me to attempt to fight them. I'm talking about helping you deal with the Masters."

She stares at me in shock. I suppose she actually thought I would push for the chance to take on godlike beings that shrugged off bullets like the Hulk. I was intending to avoid them as much as possible. Well. . . if Saber did need assistance I just might charge into the fight guns-a-blazing. But I doubted she'd need any help in combat. I was just being considerate in offering to take on the Masters for her. It was like some shmuck offering to do the dishes for his wife when she had a stressful day at work. Except instead of scrubbing, rinsing and drying I'd be pissing people off, kicking ass and taking names.

"So Saber, how about it? Can I help?"

She thinks about it for a moment before smiling.

"The answer is no."

My mouth opens wide. For a second I simply sit there stuttering as she smiles at me while shooting down my request. Then I manage to form a proper response.

"W-w-w-why?"

She looks at me with a smirk on her face.

"Praetor, do you actually believe I would need your help in battle? I find that most insulting."

I glare at her. "So you're going to be like that."

She nods. "Yes, I believe that you should remain on the sidelines and assist me through praise and motivational support."

"You know I was joking when I said that?"

She continues nodding. If I could guess I'd say she was fantasizing about my part as her glorified cheerleader. A scowl formed on my face. I wasn't confident that I could change her mind. So I'd simply agree with it and when the time came I'd adjust appropriately. For now I'd simply change the topic.

I feigned the action of sniffing the air. "You smell that?"

She stared at me like I had a second head.

"You don't? Well it smells like someone didn't actually take a bath when I told them to."

Her face turned crimson.

"H-h-how could you possibly know that?! I. . . I mean, what are you talking about Praetor?"

Well, well, well. What a lucky guess on my part. I gambled on her personality causing her to disregard my request.

Turns out I was right.

"I know all that occurs in this house."

I vaguely gestured at the wall while mouthing the word 'cameras'. She suspiciously glared at the spot I pointed to. Well I successfully raised her paranoia. The next step is making her batshit insane from it. At least to the point where she starts wearing a tin foil hat.

She focuses her sight on me and starts glaring. Then she sighs.

"Alright Praetor, maybe I might have not taken you up on your offer. But I have already touched on this subject. Servants do not need to bathe. Our bodies differ from. . . ."

"So what you're saying is you don't bathe at all."

She blankly stares at me.

"I'll take that as a no. So, I'm going to go start the bath."

She pipes up as I start walking away. "Fine. I might actually like that."

I nod without turning to her and go up the stairs. Then I enter the bathroom.

After setting everything up I call down for Saber. She walks upstairs without a sound and after actually giving me a smile, enters the bathroom.

It's only then that I realize that I forgot to hand her a towel.

Pulling one out of a stack in the nearby closet I knock on the bathroom door before entering.

Upon entering I notice her red dress is neatly folded up on the bathroom sink counter.

Unfortunately the girl must have been bullshitting me and was actually eager to take a bath since she's already completely nude.

Maybe I should have waited for her to say I could come in?

Her back is too me so it's not as bad as it could be.

She glances at me over her shoulder with a mischievous smile.

Don't turn around you dunce.

Don't turn. . . .

She turned around, proudly displaying herself like some fashion model.

Her chin is pointed up to make herself appear taller and she's sticking her chest out to show it off.

For a moment there's awkward silence on my part while she's smirking at me waiting for me to react. Then in the most emotionless voice I can have I respond to the situation.

"I forgot to give you a towel."

"Oh? So you did."

Handing her the towel I stare right into her eyes with a bored expression. Apparently this unnerves her slightly as a small frown forms on her face.

"What is the matter Praetor? Do not be ashamed. Any embarrassment you may feel is naturally for a man who has witnessed my bare form."

"Why should I be embarrassed or ashamed?"

This response catches her off guard as she begins gawking at me. The entire situation becomes comical in my mind.

"I mean, it's not like I'm the one who's naked. If either of us should be embarrassed I would think it should be you."

"Me? Embarrassed for showing off my beauty? Nonsense."

"Then what's with that expression?"

"Your lack of a reaction is rather strange. That is all."

"What did you expect? It's not like I'm going to faint. Or were you expecting blood to gush out of my nose?"

"No! It is just that I was at least expecting you to blush! You are not human!"

"Now why is that?"

"I once had one of the finest Roman men stumble upon me while I was bathing. The man fell to pieces at the sight of my nakedness. And he was a soldier no less! What matter of man are you to find nothing in this!"

"I didn't say I didn't find anything. I'm just not going to react like an idiot. It's not like I haven't seen a naked woman before."

She pauses for a second before glaring at me.

"I would hope that that not be the case." She says this with sarcasm, I note a hint of venom to her words.

Right now she's glaring at me, waiting for me to respond. I suppose she was expecting a compliment or something. Thinking it best to appease her by doing so I speak up. Of course I can't just give a simple compliment, I have to push the limits and enter dangerous territory once again.

I was an adventurer after all.

"I may have already said it but, nice tits by the way."

Her eyes narrow even further while her face turns a slight shade of pink. I didn't think it possible to embarrass such a girl.

"What's wrong with your face?"

"Wha-wha-what do you mean?"

"It's pink. Did you eat something spicy? Perhaps you're getting sick? Maybe you just have to use the toilet?"

"What! How dare you make light of such a thing! My face is red simply because of the heat in this room! The steam from the bath is rather scalding don't you think?!"

I glance at the bathtub that's empty before looking back at Saber.

"I didn't start the water."

This realization causes her to cringe before slowly turning and glancing at the tub herself. Then she looks back at me with rage in her eyes.

"How dare you say such mockery to me! Your words are ugly with no beauty whatsoever!"

"What are you talking about?"

Saber gasps as if my question is blasphemous. "You know what you did. You did it again you scoundrel. I told you never to say those words to me again!"

"Scoundrel? Who says that? Oh, are you talking about the 'nice tits' thing? That was like a minute ago. Not really that big of a deal. I was honest though, you have nice tits. Don't punch me like last time."

She gawks at me again. "Why you!"

"What'd I do?"

"How dare you insult the ruler of the greatest empire in history!"

"You're a ruler? Why not a yardstick?" I deadpan this awful joke without the slightest hint of humor in hopes that it'll confuse her.

Luckily it works.

She stares at me for a few seconds before understanding what I said.

Then she gets pissed.

Damn.

"SAVAGE! MONGREL! HERETIC NAYSAYER!" Saber screams at me before reaching for the nearest object (which happens to be a bar of soap) and preparing to throw it at me.

"Hey you know what they say. No matter what you do, don't drop the soap."

This again confuses her before she realizes at least partially what I'm implying. She roars at me in fury and. . . .

Drops the fucking soap.

"BWAHAHAHAHA! I warned you and you still failed!"

I start howling in a fit of laughter as she stares blankly at the bar of soap that slipped out of her hand and landed on the tile floor behind her. She turns around after some hesitation and bends down to pick it up. In response I utter a low whistle. This shocks her and she abruptly bolts upright and faces me, fury again on her face.

"Why you. . . . How dare you insult me so!"

I tilt my head to the side slightly.

"Insult? How'd I insult you?"

"Yet again you are obviously mocking me with your sarcastic remarks! You said you would work to avoid them! Liar!"

"Sarcastic? I said I was being honest didn't I?"

She stares at me in confusion.

"You. You were serious?" She almost mutters this to me.

Right now I have no clue as to what she's upset about. I was expecting her to be pissed because of well the fact that I was basically peeping on her accidentally. Or the fact that I said 'nice tits' a second time but apparently she's got a weird sense of priorities, focusing on whether or not the phrase 'nice tits' was from the heart.

Might have been from a little bit farther down then that.

Ugh this girl makes no sense.

"Yeah I was serious. Your breasts are lovely. Hence the wording I used of 'nice tits'. This is like the third or fourth time I've said it to you. It's getting kind of redundant so please calm down before I have to say it again. You're beautiful, we've been over this."

Her expression becomes radiant as she again sticks her chest out with her chin in the air. A large smile pops up on her face and she places both her hands on her hips. Then she does something irritating.

She winks at me.

"Well it seems I was mistaken then. I assumed you to be a cruel sexless being for a moment there, insulting and ridiculing women without a moment's hesitation. It seems though that you are instead simply a social deviant. Simply put Praetor, you are a pervert."

"Wat."

She starts roaring with laughter, so much so her small frame shakes.

"Yes. I can see it now, deep in your blank eyes there is a ravenous hunger desiring to be released from the shackles that keep it in place. Do not worry Praetor! I shall free your inner beast!"

I simply stare at the girl who's posing with her finger pointing to the heavens.

"Well ok then. The faucet on the left is cold water, the one on the right is hot. Be careful and don't break anything. I'll be downstairs."

I simply turn away from her still naked form, walking out of the bathroom in a daze. Closing the door behind me I hear something shatter. *Sigh.

Back downstairs I turn on the stereo and select a song at random. It ends up being a Disturbed song called 'The Game'. This pleases me as for whatever reason I'd taken an exceptionally fond liking to the band. In many ways this Holy Grail War was a game. A bunch of players competing over a prize. It's funny how one could dehumanize the entire event into such a trivial matter. I suppose all war could be treated the same. At least this one made those who started it fight in it. When I think about it though the Servants involved don't really have a choice. They may want the grail but it's not like they have much of an option. They're just forced to fight in this conflict. And it's not like I jumped to enter this battle. In a way it was simply thrown at me. The more things change the more they stay the same.

I go into the kitchen. I fill one of the new pots I'd bought earlier in the day and fill it with water. After placing it on the stove and waiting for it to boil I rip into a box of spaghetti and dump them into the water.

Rage Against The Machine starts playing from the stereo.

With some experimentation and failure I manage to open a jar of marinara sauce. I pour it into a saucepan and place that on the stove next to the pot of boiling water.

I search through the several grocery bags and pull out a carton of cigarettes. It's of a higher quality than the usual cheap ones I smoke. Saber had insisted that if I was to continue 'such a degrading and disgusting habit' I should at least buy quality. I didn't really understand who she thought she was ordering me what I should buy with my money, but I didn't feel like debating it. Secretly I'd been looking for an excuse to pay more for the better brand but I would have felt guilty using my teacher's savings for such a thing. Now I could blame it on Saber. Scapegoats for the win.

Speaking of Saber, she still wasn't out of the bathroom. It'd been a while and the food was almost ready. I shuddered at the thought of exactly how much damage she could cause to the bathroom.

I pulled a cigarette from the carton and lit it with my cheap disposable lighter.

The best part of this house was the fact that there were no smoke alarms on the first floor. That meant if I burnt food or smoked I didn't have to deal with an annoying shrill beeping noise.

At that moment I heard something unfold.

Saber shrieked.

Then there was a sound that vaguely reminded me of someone tripping down the stairs.

This was followed by the unmistakable sound of said person who'd tripped impact at the bottom of the stairs face first.

How do I know it was face first? Well if smacking her entire facial structure into a surface has a distinct sound that I'd come to realize after getting into several 'disagreements'.

I didn't even bother to check on her.

I knew she'd end up lying and saying nothing happened if I asked.

At least this way I saved her some embarrassment. I considered it payment for the bathroom incident.

Saber wandered into the kitchen.

Sopping wet I might add.

She'd put her clothes back on without drying herself.

One moment she appears intelligent the next I could swear she's an idiot.

I glanced at her before returning to smoking and watching the pasta. Without looking at her I spoke.

"You know I'm used to girls getting wet near me but never to this extent." Again I choose to say the joke in a deadpan manner to confuse her and avoid repercussions.

Unfortunately she catches on quicker this time and I get a fist in my side.

WHAAM!

The force flattens me on the ground.

She hit me harder than when she did with the blow to the gut.

"B-b-but I w-w-was w-w-wo-wounded in combat. . . ."

I black out. Total KO.

When I wake up I immediately strain the spaghetti and turn the stove off.

"How long was I out?"

Saber's sitting at the dining room table propping her head up with her fists.

"No more than a few seconds. Possibly a minute at most."

I simply nod, finalize the meal preparations and hand her a plate of food. She accepts it and starts eating.

At first she's careful. She places the first bite in her mouth suspiciously. Once she finds it satisfactory she starts shoveling the entire damn plate down in one go. I don't know whether I should be disgusted or impressed.

I pour each of us a glass of white wine and sit across from her with a plate of my own. Before I can even pick up the fork she slams her hands on the table in front of her and shouts.

"This food is actually edible! I demand more!"

I stare at her. Then I pick up the fork and open my mouth.

"I said I demand more!"

Again I stare at her. This time with my mouth opened and a strand of spaghetti hanging off the fork in front of my face. She starts banging the table in front of her.

"Praetor I require more sustenance refill my plate!"

*Sigh. What is she five?

I place the fork down, get up, take her plate and restock it. Then I walk over to her and place it in front of her. She has her arms crossed with a smug expression on her face. It pisses me off.

Sitting down I attempt to ignore the noises she makes while eating.

I'm unsuccessful. This goes on for about a minute and I've almost lost my appetite. Then she demands another plate.

My right eye twitches. I place my fork down, get up, take her plate and restock it. Then I hand it to her again. She eats it all.

And demands another serving.

I get up, take her plate and restock it. This time I slam it down in front of her.

She has the same damn smug expression.

She's enjoying this too much.

"THAT'S IT! I REFUSE TO ALLOW THIS TO CONTINUE!"

She looks at me. "What do you mean Praetor?" She asks it in a pseudo-innocent tone.

"This is what I mean!" I get up and grab the entire helping of spaghetti. Then I place it between us on the dining table. I fill my plate up even more.

Saber and I lock eyes. Challenge accepted.

The song 'Black Betty' comes on the stereo.

Saber and I both start inhaling food.

I finish the first plate before she does. Then I refill it and start sucking it down like a vacuum.

Saber finishes hers, glares at me, gets a second plate and starts gorging again.

We finish the second plate at the exact same time.

This begins a fight for who can be the fastest at refilling our plate with the fact that there's only own serving spoon to dish out the pasta.

She snatches it out of my hand.

In response I jump out of my chair and dolphin dive across the table.

I tackle her and her chair tips over from the force.

There's a struggle on the floor over the utensil.

For a moment I come out on top. I raise the spoon above my head like a champion and then Saber proceeds to tackle me and grab it from my hand.

She tries to lift herself off the ground using the table to support her.

Like a starving man she slowly dishes out pasta onto her plate.

In my best interpretation of Darth Vader I shout my despair to the heavens.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

She smirks at me and gulps down the plate of spaghetti.

I firmly press my forehead to the floor in a position of bowing and proceed to weep for my loss.

"Ha! Praetor did you really think you could defeat me? I am the best at everything, surely you did not assume you could win. While the attempt you made impresses me it was nonetheless futile as. . . ."

At that moment Saber's stomach releases a loud groan.

This causes me to look up from my shame and smirk.

"CHECKMATE! BIATCH!"

She looks at me in shock before falling to the ground in pain.

I had intentionally pressured her to quickly start gorging on food in our 'competition'. It was foolish on her part since she'd already eaten three plates worth previous to accepting my challenge. Pride was her downfall.

I carefully extract myself from the floor and dust myself off.

Saber's on the ground groaning in agony from overeating to the extreme.

Everyone has their limit.

I lean down and whisper in her ear.

"Say uncle."

Her eyes glare into mine and with as much venom as possible she spits back at me.

"Never."

I stand up with my customary smirk.

"Well then I guess I won't go to the store and pick up something to help you out."

She glares at me even more. Then her stomach rumbles as she clutches it and she mutters.

"Uncle."

I move my hand to my ear in an attempt to magnify the effectiveness of my hearing.

"Come again? What was that you said? I couldn't hear you. You'll have to speak louder."

She glares at me with pure hatred.

"Uncle." She says it slightly louder.

"Louder."

"Uncle." This time she says it a normal volume.

"Nope, have to say it louder."

She looks me over. Then she shouts it at me.

"Uncle! Uncle! UNCLE!"

I nod in response with a satisfied smile on my face.

"Well ok then, I'll be back soon."

Saber speaks up in a worried tone. "Wait, Praetor, it is not safe. I should go with you." Her voice is pained and feeble.

"Nah I'll be ok, you're in no shape to move around. Besides I can't just let you sit here in pain even though it's your own damn fault for being a gluttonous fool."

She frowns at my words but makes no effort to object.

"Alright, I'll be back. Don't worry."

With that I pat her on her head, put on a hoodie, and walk out.

* * *

**So there's Chapter 3. It might be a bit arrogant but I'm quite proud of myself for dishing out these chapters in a timely manner. Not sure if this'll continue, but I sure hope it does. This chapter was a bit more laid back then the other two, I focused more on my pitiful attempts at comedy. Some of you might find it offensive or possibly scandalous but that's my sense of sick twisted humor in a nutshell. Thanks to all who followed, faved, or review. It means a lot. -SB**

**P.S. Let me know how you all feel about the inclusion of music in a fic like this. I think this chapter had the most explicit mention of songs in this story so far. I know a lot of readers get annoyed when it seems music's just incorporated for no reason other than just being badass. That's why I'm trying to make it almost a trait of Dante's. He listens to genres of music like rap, rock, and metal, that are either currently or have been at one point in time considered controversial (at least by parents and the media). His taste is reflected by his personality, but let me know if you guys agree with this or would rather me simply scrap the idea all together. I appreciate everything. -SB**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own anything in the Fate series. I own the fate of my OC that is all. Type-Moon owns all that is Fate. That sounds deeper than I intended it too. *Shrugs.**

* * *

**Chapter 4- Clowns and Confrontations**

After shutting the door behind me I briefly outline the risk in leaving.

Lancer and her Master could attempt an ambush on Saber while I was gone. Though I doubted Saber would be lose even in her current situation. There was also the fact that I put myself at risk by going out alone. I didn't worry too much about that either, I figured I could get away in a worst case scenario. And if not? Well, it's not like I was going to sit around doing nothing. That was boring, I needed to get up and walk around. If I was attacked, well at least that'd be entertaining.

For the past few years I'd been doing nothing but the mundane. The near death situation with Lancer had been exciting. I didn't want to admit it, but I'd had fun. Thinking that made me doubt my sanity. I dropped the concern.

Instead I questioned whether or not the average over-the-counter drug would help a Heroic Spirit.

Wait, how does a dead person get a stomach ache?

How can she even digest the food?

Screw it, I'll chalk it up to the miracles of magic.

Speaking of miracles, I think Pepto-Bismol would be the best bet for aiding a dead legendary historical being brought back to life through the arcane arts of one of the holiest Christian relics in existence. Yup, definitely Pepto-Bismol, 'pink does more than you think'.

I pull the hood of my jacket over my head and start walking to the convenience store I buy cigarettes from.

The guy sold pretty much anything you'd need.

Except condoms.

When I observed that he didn't have any in stock and questioned him as to why he didn't order any he replied "Where there's a will, there's a way." I proceeded to ponder his words of wisdom while purchasing about half a dozen packs of cancer sticks.

My conclusion?

This man either had nerves of steel, or he was a virgin. I betted that the latter was the truth. We didn't exactly speak much, but I could tell he had a less than sunny disposition.

In the words of a song loved by Terry Crews I began 'making my way downtown'.

After purchasing the miraculous pink syrup from the convenience store guy I began the walk back.

I was like a knight in shining armor, except I was wearing a faded hoodie and instead of a legendary sword I had the legendary Pepto-Bismol in my grasp.

I passed the fast food joint I used to work at before I quit. To my surprise it seemed they'd already hired someone new. The poor bastard was given the position of 'mascot'. I almost pitied the fool. He or she was dressed as a clown and waving a sign trying to get customers.

I simply continued walking.

Or rather that's what I would have done had the 'clown' not moved in front of my path.

The way they moved was unnatural, almost like a broken doll. It put me on guard.

I stood there waiting for the person to move. They didn't, instead they stared at me.

He/she had short curly orange hair. I could only see one of their eyes because the right side of their face was mostly covered by their bangs. The face was covered with white makeup, green eye shadowing, and a red clown nose with red lips. It was unnerving. The person's figure was extremely thin, to the degree that I assumed they were malnourished.

I continued to wait for them to move. They refused. Instead they continued staring at me. I started to lose my patience.

"Sorry, but would you please move? I'm not hungry and I want to get home."

The clown stared at me a while longer. I was getting more and more annoyed by the second. I attempted to push my way past with a mumble of 'excuse me'. This ended up getting a response from the clown. She, for the voice could only be that of a female's, spoke in a shrill tone. Her manner of speech would best be classified as demented, and the way in which her tone shifted from silly to ominous could only be portrayed in writing with a variety of capital letters that defy the laws on fundamental grammar.

"yOu lOoK dELiCIoUs."

I blankly stared at the girl. My immediate response would have been 'damn you're thirsty' had her tone not led me to believe that she was mentally unstable.

"Uh, come again?" People walking by were starting to give us weird looks. It didn't help when she started cackling.

"i wANt tO eAT yOu."

"Well then. That's nice."

"i wANt tO eAT yOu bECaUSe yOu lOoK dELiCIoUS."

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

We continued to stare at each other.

Then I ended up replying. "Well that's nice and all but I'm not really into getting a blowjob from a clown I'm sure you could find someone around here who would be though. We are in Japan after all."

I then proceeded to push my way past her and continued walking. My only thought was 'they must have lowered their standards after I quit for this chick to get employed.' I had only taken around ten steps forward when the lunatic behind me started wailing. She was bawling like an infant. A demented clown infant, but an infant nonetheless.

"aLl i wANt tO Do iS eAT yOu. lEt mE sHOw mY lOvE."

I turned to the psychotic clown.

"Listen lady, I can see that you clearly need psychiatric help. You seem to have some repressed sexual desires and it's led you to the act of screaming at to random people that you find them 'delicious' and 'want to eat' them. I suggest you find an expert who'll be able to assist you in handling your problems because while I'm flattered that you 'want to eat' me I really don't desire to have clown makeup all over me."

My response causes her to stop crying and stare at me. People walking by are starting to take photos and stare even more. I decide to lighten the mood.

"Besides, it's not even my birthday."

It has the opposite effect.

The clown chick pulls out a kitchen knife from who knows where and proceeds to charge at me while uttering a bloodcurdling scream. Like any sane man in an 'oh shit' moment I turn on my heel and start fleeing.

"WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?!" I scream this over my shoulder at my assailant.

Her response is a cross between a monkey giving birth and a cat being strangled.

Don't ask how I know what they sound like.

"NEVER TRUST A CLOWN. WHY DID I TRY? STEPHEN KING AND BATMAN HAVE TAUGHT ME ENOUGH TO KNOW WHAT I DID WAS WRONG, BUT I TRIED SO DESPERATELY TO BE RIGHT. FORGIVE ME JOE PESCI FOR I HAVE SHAMED YOU!"

I continue screaming as I run down the streets.

"SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE THIS PSYCHO'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"

In response the people lining the streets simply stop and start filming with their phones.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! DO YOU THINK I'M JOKING?!"

The clown behind me starts emitting a war cry which results in cheers and applause from the crowd surrounding us.

"DON'T ENCOURAGE HER!" I continue rushing down the streets, cursing my ill fortune all the way.

"DOES THIS MEAN YOU WANTED TO EAT ME IN A CANNIBAL WAY?! I OBJECT TO THAT. I'M MOST DEFINTELY NOT LOVIN' IT!"

I charge ahead, pushing my way past people as the lunatic behind me continues screaming like a banshee. I'm getting déjà vu from when I fled from Lancer.

"YOU'RE RUINING MY CHANCE AT INDEPENDENCE! I'M NEVER GOING TO BE LET OUT OF THE HOUSE ALONE, AGAIN!"

I quickly come up with a plan. Its crude and I wouldn't try it if I suspected my pursuer of being skilled in fighting.

I run around a corner and proceed to glue myself to the wall so she can't notice that I'm waiting for her. She's sloppy. I can hear her rushing towards me and it'd be simply for me to simply line up a shot and take her down.

But where would be the fun in that?

Right when she's at the corner I cock my fist back and spring out.

"HOW'S THIS FOR A PUNCHLINE?!" I shout the worst one liner I can come up with.

And proceed to punch some poor random guy in the face.

I can't even begin to describe the look of confusion and fear that crossed his face when I jumped out from behind the wall screaming like a madman. The punch breaks his nose and just like that he's out like a light.

"Well. . . uh. . . sorry. My bad." I make a feeble attempt to apologize to the man's unconscious form.

Then I realize it's quiet.

Too quiet.

Looking up I realize the clown's there. She's just standing about twenty feet away from me, holding the knife, grinning like a freak.

I'm done playing around with her. I project a handgun.

A Bond Arms Ranger II Derringer to be exact. It's capable of firing two .357 magnum rounds. That's more than enough to drop her.

I'm a bit hesitant to fire first though. I'm out in public, in the middle of a crowd, and if I shoot first and ask questions later than I'm going to get thrown in the slammer for a long, long time.

"What's the deal? Why are you. . . ."

The clown cuts me off. "i'M gOiNg tO eAT yOuR tASty fLeSh!"

She charges. I draw.

"This isn't the horror movies lady, I got a gun!"

She continues charging. I fire.

The first shot goes through her left forearm. It's a feeble attempt to disarm her in the chance that she might still be standing afterwards.

The second round goes right through her chest. I'd say it at least collapsed a lung and broke several ribs. The bullets stop her charge.

She stands there, staring at me with a maniacal grin on her face.

"i wAnTEd tO eAT yOu. . . ." She collapses to the ground.

And that's when everyone in the crowd starts screaming in horror. Oh, thanks guys, no big deal when a clown was chasing someone with a butcher knife, but when said someone fights back with the help of Mr. Magnum then everyone loses their minds.

I look at the bleeding clown. This is just too good, I can't pass up an opportunity like this. Time to hit her with the last zinger.

"Why so serious? I guess that's what you'd call The Killing Joke." I walk away and blend in with the crowd.

Then I begin making my way back to the house. Pepto-Bismol in hand.

Wonder how I'm going to explain this to Saber?

As soon as I open the door I can feel the animosity in the air.

"Hey Saber, I'm back with the stuff that'll help you out. Listen, you won't believe the crazy shit I just dealt with. And by crazy I mean grade-A nutcase. Seriously it was. . . ."

"Be quiet, Praetor."

My head slumps. "Yes Ma'am."

Saber's standing with her arms crossed. I suppose she's feeling better at least.

"Praetor, why don't you have a seat over there?" She gestures to the dining room chairs. Her voice is so commanding that I can't help but listen to her and sit down.

"Praetor, could you explain to me what exactly happened?"

She walks over to the television and turns it on. On the news there's a story about a clown being shot in the streets by a 'demented man wearing a hoodie'. There are several pictures of me. It pisses me off.

They didn't get my good side.

"Praetor, what is the only rule of this war?"

"Fuck bitches, get money?"

She stares at me.

I stare at her.

We stare at each other.

Staring's apparently become a big commodity nowadays.

"Praetor, how do you expect me to reply to that?"

"Well I wasn't really looking for a reply. Really I was just hoping you'd turn off the television and we'd pretend nothing happened."

She starts tapping her foot on the floor like an impatient mother.

"Why did you shoot a clown in a crowded public place?" I love how her question focuses on the 'crowded public place' and not the 'shoot a clown' part.

"She wanted to eat me. Media left out that part didn't they? Figures."

"She…wanted to eat you?"

"Yup, she screamed something about me looking delicious and wanting to taste my flesh."

Saber appeared to be thinking for a moment. Then she spoke.

"Praetor, when will you understand that your jokes can be in bad taste? Do you so happen to have a deep set hatred against clowns? I need to know as it might hinder our partnership where you to slaughter any random joker that pass us by."

My jaw drops. It takes me a moment to regain my composure. "She tried to eat me!"

"Praetor, your attempts at making this situation amusing with the mention of oral sex is negatively affecting my outlook on your mental sanity."

"No not blowjobs! She wanted to eat me! Like with a fork and knife and steak sauce! Well that's largely my interpretation of what she would do, in all actuality I feel I'd be better served with a dash of paprika and some. . . ."

Saber glares at me.

"Never mind, she was all ballistic with a steak knife and just so happened to be a tad cannibalistic and it happened to make me very pessimistic on to the nature of society as a whole when they crowd was all with their phones being dualistic by not helping me but helping the crazy psycho instead. I don't know if this is Asiatic or just something that's in human nature but it makes me feel a bit apostolic since I definitely would have helped someone out if a cannibal clown attempted to eat them in public. Not in private though, that's their own problem."

Saber stares at me like I'm insane. I attempted to throw in as many big words as I could come up with in an attempt to confuse her, hoping she'd just take my word for it and drop the matter.

No such luck.

"So what you are saying, Praetor, is that this clown woman wanted to consume you?"

"Yup, and she chased me through the streets with a butcher knife. So I shot her."

"Was that not a bit extreme?"

"Nope."

"Could you not have simply disarmed her?"

"I suppose I could have."

"Then why did you not do that?"

"Well. I wanted to try out the quality of a projected bullet."

"So you used this clown as a guinea pig? Praetor, I can see a lot that is wrong with that."

"Well yeah I understand it wasn't exactly morally ethical or anything, but it was an important experiment. Besides I gave her plenty of warning as to my intents if she continued."

"Praetor I still cannot understand why you decided to shoot her in public."

"Ok let's just drop this it's not that important and besides. . . ."

"Praetor, were you scared?"

"W-w-what?! No, no of course not. I mean why would I be scared of a demented creepy maniacal Pennywise wannabe that threatened me with cannibalism. I mean come on, it's just a creepy, unnatural, pseudo-smiling, manipulative laughter type of creature with sickly blood red lips and a disgusting red tomato for a nose. Why would I be scared? I don't get scared."

The look she gave me told me she wasn't buying it.

*Sigh.

"Ok, I'll admit. I might have been a tad bit frightened."

"Praetor they say witnesses heard you screaming in terror while running down the streets."

"What?! And they still think I'm the one to blame! Those dirty. . . ."

Saber's expression told me I'd just lost.

"Ok. I was terrified. What? Did you expect me to be perfect? Everyone's got a weakness."

"On the contrary Praetor I was expecting this from you. In fact I was expecting you to have gotten yourself killed while you were out alone. It is of no surprise that you would have an irrational and ridiculous phobia of clowns. To be honest I was expecting something more pathetic from you."

"Uh. . . thanks? I guess?"

"Do not mention it Praetor. But on the subject of the clown that was shot. You should lay low for a while because you are probably wanted for murder. Or at least attempted murder."

"Then I really killed her didn't I?"

"As of now she is in critical condition. The police will be searching for you."

"Well I don't have any relatives and this is basically my safe house so I think I'll be fine."

"They will probably check your last area of employment and then come here."

"What, you think I'm an idiot? I used a fake ID to get that job. Fake address, fake name, fake birth, etc. On paper Dante Di Prinzi doesn't exist. Besides the house has a few boundary fields in place that dissuade normal people from entering its borders."

"Praetor I am impressed with your foresight. But I have to ask, why is it that you set all this up? You had no idea that you would summon a Servant and participate in the Holy Grail War. Why is it that you. . . ?"

I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

"Don't worry about it. I just would prefer people not knowing about me."

That includes you Saber. She gets the memo and changes the subject.

"What will you do now Praetor?"

"Well you said I have to lay low. This isn't GTA so it'll be a bit longer than a couple minutes before the cops get off my back. The way I figure it, I'm going to have to leave the country eventually. But that'll have to wait until this war is over. For now though I'm not going to worry about it. I mean what's a cop going to do? We're participants in a war in which super powered beings are summoned to fight to the death for the Holy Grail. The men in blue are the least of my worries. Besides she started it, running at me with a knife screaming she wanted to eat me. What do you expect me to just go and say 'hold on a moment let me get some barbecue sauce for you'?"

Saber sighs at my response. "Praetor, do you ever plan ahead?"

"Nope, never needed to."

This brings a smile to her expression. "Good, I suppose it would not be quite the same if you did."

"You got that right blondie. Now, what about your stomach? Don't tell me I dealt with all that crap only for you to be already fine and dandy?"

She pouts at this. "Well, Praetor, you did take quite a long time to return. I had already recovered and was pondering whether or not I should set out in search of you when I happened to turn on the television."

Translation: 'I really didn't care what happened to you since you took so long so I turned the television on.'

"So, I went through that for nothing?" I gestured to the Pepto-Bismol with a disappointed expression on my face.

This caused her to smirk.

"No, Praetor, you did not. In thank you for your dedication. In return, I will allow you to share a drink with me."

"I think that sounds more like you wanting me to get you a glass of wine."

She smirked at my reply. Looks like I hit the nail on the head.

"Gimme a sec." I got up and started making my way to the kitchen.

I poured Saber a glass of white wine and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel's for myself. I turned on the stereo as I walked past it. 'Santa Monica' by Everclear starts blaring from the speakers.

"Your taste of music is. . . unique. Praetor."

I take a shot of whiskey.

"That a nice way of saying you don't like it?"

She shakes her head. "N-n-no, I just am not used to this type of music."

"What type of music did you listen to?" My question catches her off guard. It takes her a moment to answer.

"Well, I suppose the music of my time would be considered somewhat traditional by your standards."

"Choirs and stuff like that?"

She nods.

"Sounds interesting. Not my cup of tea, but well, you know how the saying goes, 'live and let die'."

"Praetor, I believe you mean 'live and let live'."

"Do I now? I think I meant what I said." I lock eyes with Saber. I can see my own reflection in her eyes. The smirk is back on my face.

For whatever reason this causes Saber to turn crimson and look away.

I wonder if she understood what I meant. I will live and let all others die. A perfect philosophy for this war.

I take my fourth shot of whiskey. Then I get up.

"I'm going to sleep." Saber simply nods at my announcement.

I walk to the stereo, but before I can turn it off Saber speaks up.

"Praetor, you should just leave that on."

I look to her and simply nod. Then I stumble up the stairs and into my bedroom, the bottle of Jack in my hand.

Sitting down on the side of the bed I slip in earphones and hit play on my MP3. 'Sing For The Moment' comes on.

I take a swig from the bottle.

The memories start returning.

I take another swig.

Trying to forget.

Then I light a cigarette.

This is how my nights had been in the most part before Saber showed up. Drinking and smoking myself to sleep. My lungs and liver must hate me. It's worth it though. I can fix any 'permanent' damage, later. But now it's the only thing stopping my mind from wandering through all my old memories. The dreams were the worst. But drinking myself to unconsciousness made sure they wouldn't show up.

My teacher had smoked marijuana. He did it to relax himself from some type of post-traumatic stress that he had. I never asked what had caused it. It didn't seem right. It was almost like I would be intruding if I inquired. I tried it once. Marijuana that is. It didn't exactly work. Instead I just started having fuzzy recollections of my past that made everything worse. Instead of relaxing me I reacted negatively, becoming extremely paranoid and suspicious of everyone.

Then there was the time I'd gotten a prescription of antidepressants by using a combination of fake personal information. I ended up popping them too often. Then like an idiot I mixed them with painkillers and alcohol. The result was a borderline overdose.

I was too young to have gone through half the things I went through.

But the funniest part was that those weren't the worst thing that I'd dealt with.

In fact they were the best. I never felt as alive as when I was near death.

A psychologist would have had a field day with me.

I took another gulp of whiskey. Another drag from the cancer stick.

For whatever reason they came back stronger tonight. Maybe it was because I'd actually felt fear today. With that fear came the intent to kill that I'd tried to forget. That damn clown can go to hell.

Brief, blurry images of my childhood came to me. Sitting in the dark, with the crack of the door being the only source of light, just waiting for the daily meal to come by. Intense training regiments, constantly having the fact that I served an important role for my family being driven into my head. That that was my only role. I was considered a tool. Not allowed to speak. Simply nod yes or no. Never allowed to enjoy the simple pleasant situations that come with childhood.

I never got to make friends with other kids. I didn't even get to see other kids. They let me have a pet once. A puppy. Some kind of mix between a German shepherd and a black Labrador. He was my only friend. When it turned a year old I was told to kill it. Well, 'told' is the wrong word, 'forced' is a better one. Bastards made me use my bare hands.

Told me to I was being tested as to whether or not I could use prana to strengthen myself sufficiently. I ended up failing. I killed the dog. But they told me I didn't do it fast enough. Points deducted. A week in the dark, waiting for the daily meal.

That's around when my teacher came into the picture. He had been hired to train me in using magic in battle. At first I hated him. But then I realized he disliked his job as a 'teacher' as much as I disliked being 'taught'.

That gave me a small hope and from that day I began planning an escape.

My first attempt involved simply running for it. I snuck off and managed to make a break for it. They caught me about ten miles away from the property, sitting in the mud, on the edge of passing out from running without a break and pissed that I'd failed.

Then I tried again in the second attempt. That time I ran close to twenty miles. The mosquitoes and leeches sucked me dry. Then I almost was mauled by an alligator. The only thing that saved me from harm was quick thinking. But it'd taken its toll. At that point I collapsed from shock, again wallowing in the mud. I probably would have died that time for sure if they hadn't found me.

Both escapes weren't meant to succeed. Rather I was just trying to test the waters. Get a feel for the surrounding terrain and what I'd be dealing with.

The third attempt was the successful one. As the saying goes, 'third time's the charm'. I figured they'd throw me in confinement. So I snatched that old knife out of a display cabinet in a rare moment of privacy. Then while I sat in the dark as punishment for the first escape attempt I dug up the wooden floorboards of the room I was in and hid it there. I dug it back up when they threw me in there the second time. After killing the guard I just started running. I'd been lucky that it was nighttime. That had been something I'd been just hoping for since I couldn't tell time when tossed into a dark room with no windows. I managed to slip out without anyone knowing any better.

When I practically bumped into my teacher I had almost crapped myself in fear. At first I'd prepared myself to kill him, but when I lunged he disarmed me fairly quick. It was pathetic. At that point I had accepted defeat. Then for whatever reason he decided to help me. And I ended up escaping.

Out of sheer luck. Planning hadn't gotten me anywhere. Spur of the moment choices and quick thinking is what's kept me alive.

That and my teacher.

Something wet falls from my face. It leaves a drop mark on the bed sheets.

"Praetor."

Saber's voice makes me realize that I'd chucked the MP3 player across the room.

"Praetor, you are crying."

I start laughing. It's the laughter of a drunk, too loud, awkward, and misplaced.

"Whatareyoutalkingabout?" My speech is slurred together. I didn't realize I'd drunken this much. Usually I passed out way before this, and if I didn't I'd usually just continue drinking without speaking. This is the first time my drunkenness was made aware to me.

I start laughing again. Then I feel my face. She's right, there's something wet on my cheeks. I lick the moisture. It's salty. So these are tears. It's been a while since I've shed them.

"Praetor. What is wrong?" She's choosing her words carefully. Even with my mind clouded I can understand the implications in her tone. Worry, concern, unease, pity. All mixed into a big bundle.

It pisses me off a bit that she finds the need to pity me. I wasn't dead at least. I'd lived. I wisely hold my tongue on that matter.

"Nothingblondie."

My visions becoming blurry. My eyes burn. I don't know why. More moisture cascades down my face. I'm laughing now. Should I be ashamed? I should. But I'm not. I lost that feeling long ago.

"Praetor, something is wrong. Tell me." Her tone's commanding now. Still a bit worried but more authoritative.

As if I have any requirement to tell her anything. I guess my expression shows how I feel about her order because she continues.

"Please." She's pleading now. I don't know why.

"Dontworryaboutit."

"Praetor."

I start laughing again. Then there's an abrupt pause. She stares at me expectantly.

"Prae-"

"Stop calling me that."

Both of us are surprised at my tone. It's sharp, criticizing, harsh, a blade that cuts right through her words. My speech isn't slurred when I speak those words. Saber stands there stunned.

Then she speaks.

"No, Praetor."

If my words were a blade, the words she says are a shield. She's defending. But at the same time she's staying strong and showing she's in charge. Even when she has no right. Sure I'm being a dick but she's not exactly helping. My thoughts are somewhere along the lines of 'typical upper class disposition'.

I start laughing again. Apparently I found something funny. I don't even know what. Maybe it's this whole situation.

The moisture continues flowing from my eyes. It's like someone pulled out a drain plug.

She tries to speak again "Dante."

This makes me laugh even more.

I suppose she thought she'd touch me on a heart to heart level when she used my first name.

Surprise.

"Ha ha ha, thatsnotmyname."

She stares at me as if I'm crazy. Ironic considering she only put on that look at this moment and not with all the other drunken behavior.

I cease the laughter. Then I sigh.

"If you must know. I couldn't save him." Again my words are sharper than I intended. More criticizing then I wanted, condescending almost. But it's not directed at Saber. It's directed at myself.

She looks shocked. Then she does some sort of mumbling thing and I can't catch what she says.

"Speak up."

"Are you talking about your teacher?"

"Yup."

We both stare at each other. For whatever reason I'm still crying. I feel weird. Is this guilt? Regret? Strange. I usually avoid those emotions.

Saber starts walking towards me.

Briefly I indulge the thought of projecting a very large handgun and shooting at her. The thought passes.

She sits down next to me. The way she does it annoys me. Like she's unsure whether or not she's capable of sitting on such a cheap bed.

I start gulping the bottle of whiskey again.

She grabs it from my hand.

Before I can even react a harsh blow connects with my cheek. I look at Saber in a cross between anger and amusement. Vaguely I understand that she just slapped me.

Funny, I saw her more as a tomboy. I didn't think she'd be feminine enough to use the dreaded slap.

I start laughing and grab the bottle away from her when she doesn't expect me to.

Another gulp is chugged down.

The location of the cigarette that I'd been puffing on is lost to me. A ridiculous concern pops in my head over whether or not I swallowed it.

The bottle is taken from me again. This time there's no slap. Instead there's words.

"Praetor. I understand your need to shed tears for your friend. While there is no beauty in them or your words I am still moved by them nonetheless."

Well thank you Miss self-absorbed. I really cared how it affected you. Damn this woman she understands less about people than I do. I mean come on-

"Praetor, you have to forge onward. To the end of this war, when we win. You have to do it for your teacher. Make him proud."

Her words actually hit me pretty hard. She's right I can't just get all depressed and fall into a drunken stupor, crying like a baby. Thanks Saber, even though you're probably the biggest narcissist I've ever met it touches me that you could-

Then she ruins it by attempting to do an awkward pat of the back. It reminds me of something a socially inept man would do to their son after giving a 'father-son talk'. I look up from my hands and at her face. She has an idiotic grin on her face. She continues smacking my back. By now the tears are gone. All I can do is start sighing at her.

For whatever reason her attitude has cleared my head a bit.

With a quick access of my magic circuits I've accessed my prana supply and altered myself. The drunkenness leaves. I look at her, now somewhat sober.

"This doesn't change anything between us. I'll just try not to drink myself to this point again."

She continues to grin at me, but she's finally stopped the back patting.

"If you fail, Praetor, I will be here for you."

For a moment I can't respond. All I do is stare at her in surprise.

"Thanks."

It's the only thing I can say.

Here's this woman, this girl, smiling at me. She has no clue as to how to understand people. No clue as to what's important or not in this world. Stuck on some ridiculous fascination with beauty. Narcissistic and self-indulged. Yet she has decency. Something I lack.

Does that make me a bad person? Don't know. Don't really think it matters. I never said I was the good guy. I just am. For all the good and bad that refers to. Not like I can fix my flaws.

But here's this chick offering to help me with them. Wasn't she trying to kill me just a day or so ago? It felt both scary and reassuring to hear her say she'd back me up. It didn't mean I'd stop being an alcoholic loser who joked way too much. Just that I'd be less of an alcoholic loser that still continued to joke way too much.

Well, enough of this friendly bonding crap.

"I'm going to bed."

Once again I declare my intentions.

Saber acts as if she didn't hear me.

So I simply lie down.

As expected she lays down next to me.

A moment of silence for Saber's intuition, it clearly has died, since she can't take a hint.

"Get the hell out of my room."

Her response is some type of grumble that I can't understand.

*Sigh.

"Go away."

"Praetor, after all I did going out of my way to help you? Besides I will simply leave and later return when you have fallen asleep."

"Good point. Just shut up. I hope you don't snore."

I moved as close to the wall as possible without humping it and faced my back to her.

She started mocking me by imitating snoring noises.

"Shut up. And goodnight."

"Goodnight Praetor."

I shut my eyes and let unconsciousness take over.

This would be the first night I've fallen asleep without being drunk.

Thanks Saber.

* * *

**There goes another chapter. Sorry this one took longer to write than the others so far. Just wanted to thank all of you who faved, followed, and review. Special shout out goes to King Keith for being a loyal advisor and giving me some ideas on where to go with this story. Check him out. -SB **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except my OC. Everything else is the property of its respective owner. This goes for all the Fate series stuff as well as any mention of company merchandise. If I did own any of this I would have enough money to buy this stuff. Since I don't have enough money it is fairly obvious that I own none of this. I can't spell it out any clearer for anyone willing to sue me for the five dollars and thirty eight cents I have in my wallet. Oh look I found a penny. What's that flapping I hear? Oh crap the vultures are starting to show up!**

* * *

**Chapter 5- Same Songs and Different Dances**

When I woke up I felt the strangest that I'd ever did before.

"NOTHING IS THE SAME ANYMORE!"

"Mmm. . . Praetor?"

Beside me the half asleep figure of Saber is laying on her right side facing me. When I woke up I ended up moving onto my left side. We're facing each other. There's less than an inch between us.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU IN MY BED?!" Her response is a raised eyebrow.

Before she can speak I push her off the side of the bed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!"

She glares at me from the floor before materializing that damn crimson blade in her hand. It's been a while since I'd had to deal with that.

"NO! STOP!"

She hesitates before lowering the sword.

"I must have been plastered."

I start biting the nail of my index finger. I point at Saber.

"And you must have been too. Oh shit. You're going to kill me."

Her eyebrow raises yet again. "Praetor, what are you talking about?"

"It's not my fault ok? I can't help it that I'm sexy. Baby I was born this way. Hear me out Saber. You must have been so drunk that anyone would have looked hot. It had to be a heat of the moment thing. And goddamn it I can't remember it either! WHY JOE PESCI?! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!" I start screaming at the heavens.

"P-p-praetor. . . ?" Saber's voice is timid. She's blushing now.

Does she remember?! DAMMIT !

I release a deep breath of air. Then I look Saber directly in the eye.

"I regret nothing."

I state this as an ultimatum. No guilt shall be expressed from my inner being! I have to remain the dominant force even if she slashes me in half with that sword. It's a matter of principle.

Saber's staring at me like I'm insane. This is a possible conclusion.

Then I stop and think.

"Wait. . . why is my mouth not dry? And I don't have a headache. Or nausea. Sure I have anxiety right now but that's your fault."

Saber glares at me. I stand up and test whether I'm dizzy or not.

"Weird. Usually I have to at least cast a spell before it goes away. This must have been why everything felt different…"

I look at Saber and she returns the look with an annoyed one.

"Did I drink last night?"

"Yes you did."

"But. . . ."

"You used magic to remove the intoxication before you fell asleep. Then you allowed me to sleep next to you after a short argument. And might I add that I won that argument. You may take that in consideration for future use." Her tone's smug and boasting at the end.

"That doesn't sound right. I'm always between a state of drunkenness or a hangover. I'm better at everything when I'm drunk."

Saber snorts in an attempt to avoid laughing.

"What?"

She breaks out into laughter. "It is nothing Praetor. You are simply a humorous individual. I never thought I would find someone almost as much of a hedonist as those in my time. It is appropriate that you are my master."

"Uh. . . thanks?"

"You are welcome. Do not expect much more of these compliments. Both of us know I am more deserving of them."

"You're really full of yourself, you know that?"

She grins at me. "Why thank you."

*Sigh.

I run a hand through my hair. Everything feels sharper. I liked it better when it was all dull.

"I need a drink." Saber says nothing.

I leave the room without waiting for her and walk down the stairs, two steps at a time. I'm in the kitchen downing a glass of red wine when Saber catches up with me. I'd decided it'd be best to start light.

"Praetor, you should really reduce your consumption of alcohol."

I start laughing.

Unfortunately this causes me to choke.

Also the wine starts coming out of my nose.

Saber simply watches in amusement as I struggle for breath.

Once I regain my composure I respond to her statement.

"You're a real one to talk with the whole 'indulging' thing. You said it yourself, the people of your time were worse than me."

She frowns. "I did not say worse. In fact it is the opposite. They were better than you."

Ha. Ha. Ha. Real funny.

I ignore her response and put the bottle of wine back in the fridge. Then I stand there scratching my head.

"Praetor, you left this in your room." Saber holds out my MP3 player.

"Where'd I leave it?"

"In the exact spot you threw it at."

"I THREW IT!" I quickly snatch the player and start checking it for any damage. Then I pop in the earbuds. Hitting play, I'm relieved to hear it still works.

"Thanks Saber."

She offers me a smile. "You are welcome."

"I'll take this favor as a partial payment of your rent."

She frowns at me. "Rent?"

I nod. "Yeah, considering all you're doing is lounging around and mooching off of me for a roof over your head."

The frown becomes a scowl. Yet again the sword pops up. I thought I got her to cut that out! (Pun is so punny.)

"You should be grateful for my very presence. I am aiding you in winning this war!"

I yawn. "Let's not forget it's a war I couldn't care less about."

I can see the red rise in her face almost like a thermometer. Ooooh she's definitely boiling with anger now.

Before she can start into a long rant at my expense I interrupt her. Boys, take notes. What I'm about to do will work nine times out of ten.

(Disclaimer: The author is not held responsible for any damage caused as a result of taking the words of a fictional character as actual decent advice.)

"You know Saber, you're awfully cute when you're angry."

This stops her for a second. Before I can think I'm in the clear a punch connects with my sternum.

Cue the zoomed in X-ray showing my ribs crack.

"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO APPEASE ME WITH YOUR CLEVER LIES!"

Blood flows out of my nose as I utter a girly scream before passing out on the kitchen floor.

* * *

This is strange.

When's the last time I'd had a dream? Wasn't that the whole point of drinking myself to submission? To avoid this shit? The one time I'm sober this happens.

Here I am. Off to dreamland. This isn't the usual nightmare though. This is different. How you might ask?

Well for one my dreams usually don't start with a recurring popup of the number 666 on a hazy red background. The so called 'Number of the Beast'. I'm sooooo scared.

Maybe next I'll start imagining Poseidon tap dancing to 'Hello! Ma Baby'.

A few moments of having to handle this crap and the scene shifts.

I feel like an outsider. Like a member of the audience. Strange considering this is my dream.

Usually they tend to be about me.

Or women.

But those dreams we don't talk about in public.

Anyway the dream's shifted to an antiquated city. I say antiquated because the buildings have the same designs you'd only see in a courthouse or historical monument. It's like I'm surrounded my Lincoln Memorials, without Honest Abe there to keep me company.

There's also the fact that the people of this dear city are wearing clothing you'd only see at a frat party. Togas for all.

A few groups of guys wearing plate armor and wielding swords walked by.

The people here seem actually kind of happy.

Why the hell am I seeing this?

It's boring.

The scene disappears and a new one pops up.

It's the same city.

Except for the inferno that's consuming it.

Now that's more like it! At least I can be sort of entertained by this even though I know it's not real. It's like professional wrestling. Or Kim Kardashian.

The flames ravage the city. People run past me screaming bloody murder. Buildings crumble with their structures being weakened. Some moron ran by screaming about how the gods were punishing them. Another was whining that the Emperor needed to do something.

Cowards.

Embrace the hellfire!

Roast your marshmallows with its warmth!

These weenies should be roasting weenies and singing campfire songs.

The building next to me falls and screams of pain come from underneath the rubble.

Ok…maybe I was too harsh on them for running away.

Again the scene fades away.

What is this a montage? Where's the dubstep to go along with it? At least give me 'Lux Aeterna' or something. That'd be epic. It'd also probably fit with this time period. As I'm fairly certain I'm in Rome.

It seems familiar to me. Did I have ancestors here at this time? Is that why I'm seeing this? Some sort of weird past life experience?

Another image pops up. This time it's a small blonde haired girl. She's holding a cup of liquid. An older woman I can only to be her mother is standing over her with an insane grin on her face.

I know that grin.

It's the grin of the powerful who want more.

The grin of greed. Insatiable appetites.

Who have no understanding as to what makes you human.

It's a grin I used to have.

That's why I prefer the smirk.

The girl's reaction makes me immediately assume she's been poisoned.

She's gasping and looks like she's about to lose her balance.

I can't tell if that's from the poison or from the shock of being poisoned.

The mother's expression is that of a winner who's never felt what lose is. She probably scratches this up as another success.

After a while the girl starts panicking, complaining about a headache.

Begging her mother to help her.

Asking what's wrong.

For whatever reason this unnerves me.

I'm the type of person who'd sit by and allow this to happen just to stay out of it.

The only reason I would ever form an opinion on a matter was if it either affected me or if it amused me. But here, it's different.

Maybe it's because I see similarities between the girl and myself when I was young and naïve like her.

Instead of remaining unbiased like I usually try to be I can feel nothing but hatred for the mother. Her demeanor disgusts me. What a repulsive human being. I feel no pity for the oppressors of this world. And she has the image of one who oppresses. A weak being who views themselves as strong.

Another scene shift with the young girl's sobs still echoing in my head.

The girl's older now. I don't know why but I can tell they are one and the same.

She wears a crown now.

There's a large crowd of the public surrounding her. She's stationed atop of a balcony giving some sort of speech to them. It's the usual nationalistic propaganda bullshit about how they're nation is the best and will last forever blah blah blah.

When the speech ends the girl smiles. I can tell it's forced.

There's something in her eyes that contradicts that smile.

Sadness? Confusion? Loneliness?

It's either one or a combination of all three.

The girl doesn't understand the people who cheer for her. How can she? She's an Emperor. Meant to rule over but not understand. There's a difference between ruling and leading.

Then it hits me.

"I thought you looked familiar."

The blonde looks up. Directly at me.

Dammit, now she's in my dreams?

"Saber."

* * *

Praetor has not woken up in some time.

I stayed by his side the first day thinking that he would simply awaken in a few minutes like the previous time. When hours past I feared he might have been dead. The only thing that stopped me from panicking was the fact that I still felt his prana. As well as his pulse.

The remainder of the day was spent utilizing this item both he and the Grail refer to as 'television'. It is much more effective than any messenger. Though this soon became dull.

I attempted to listen to the contraption referred to as a 'stereo'. The music blared out of it to the point where I could hardly hear myself think. It took every fiber of my being to not simply slice the machine in half. I knew Praetor would have been angered if I did so.

He was a strange man.

I sometimes imagine how things would have turned out had a normal Master summoned me. It would have probably been not quite as annoying to deal with an average mage. But definitely not as entertaining either.

Boredom quickly took over while I waited for him to awaken.

A thought crosses my mind.

I fear my adoring public at that local establishment with the singing machine may be missing me. I would entice Praetor to accompany me back there if he were awake. He seemed to genuinely enjoy my singing, what with how euphoric he was.

At least the man had sense in his love of music.

I could simply leave by myself.

That might allow Praetor to be in danger. An enemy Servant could attack at any moment. I need to figure out a plan.

"That is what I will do!"

After cramming Praetor into the small room housing the toilet I set out for the 'karaoke bar' as he called it.

As I walked the people lined the streets gaping at my radiant beauty.

"You may praise me for my beauty dear citizens, for your Emperor enjoys flattery."

It seems they are too nervous of my obvious superiority as they simple remain silently gazing at my form. Slightly disappointed I continue to the karaoke establishment.

The customers cheer upon my arrival.

I offer a humble bow in return.

Stepping onto the stage I prepare my voice for the serenading that will begin.

I am always prepared, but a warmup never hurts.

After a few vocal exercises I am ready to show these mortals the talent of the gods!

The door of the pub slams open. All eyes focus on the newcomer.

How dare they interrupt my performance!

I recognize the girl at once and immediately my irritation towards her intensifies.

Lancer.

The girl who assaulted my Praetor.

How dare she show herself in my presence again!

I would not have hesitated to crush her had the crowd not existed.

Her appearance immediately draws the attention of my audience.

The horns and tail are gone, but her dreadful attire has not changed. Her gait is cocky. She has an air of importance.

What a disgusting woman.

Has she no humility?

"I am the greatest idol that has ever lived!" She shouts this while pointing a finger to the heavens.

What lies!

Does she not know who she speaks to?!

I, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, have a voice that rivals that of Apollo himself!

To my annoyance she steps up on the stage and takes a position next to me, microphone in hand.

Instinctively I grab a microphone myself.

The music starts.

Lyrics appear on an overhead projector. It is a song by a band Praetor had on his music player. 'Teo Torriatte (Let Us Cling Together)' by Queen.

Glaring at Lancer I begin singing.

Halfway through my first line she butts in.

Her interruption angers me greatly, but since I am a better person than her I do not respond with violence.

The song becomes a war. Each of us battling for dominance in the music.

Her terrible singing appears to be unnerving the audience.

Groups here and there begin to leave. A few glasses and bottles break.

What a talentless hack.

The song continues like this. A continuous conflict for superiority.

By the time is has ended the majority of my audience has abandoned me.

I blame the ugliness of this witch beside me.

"Do you see that Saber? Your singing is so terrible that my audience leaves. Even when my melodious voice is being vocalized."

"Do not make me laugh Lancer. Your voice is by no means 'melodious' in fact my adoring fans are abandoning me precisely because your voice is hideous. Just like your appearance."

This comment strikes a nerve and she begins to glare at me ferociously. I merely smirk in response.

"What did you say you harlot?!"

My mouth drops.

"How dare you refer to me as such, you flat chested courtesan!"

"How dare you refer to _me_ as such with those milk jugs of yours! You dumb blonde!"

She draws her spear.

I unsheathe my blade, Aestus Estus.

"Prepare to die you insolent whelp!"

"STOP!"

Surprising both of us the bartender speaks up. "If you're have some idiotic cosplay fight than do it somewhere besides here."

In response both Lancer and I nod before starting to walk to the door.

"Besides both of you are terrible at singing. I've heard better sounds from a dying cat."

His comment catches our attention.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" To my displeasure this phrase is uttered in unison.

After cleansing the filth Lancer and I leave. For whatever reason we ended up walking side by side.

She is the first one to speak up. "How is the little pig?"

"What are you on about?" I look at her with annoyance.

"The Little Pig. Your Master?"

"Praetor? He is fine."

"He's still alive?"

I smirk at her confusion. "Very much so. In fact I believe he is doing better than ever. You really underestimated his tenacity."

"That's a shame. I was hoping he would have died. It would have saved me a lot of trouble later on."

Her statement annoys me. "You could never kill Praetor! He and I shall slay both you and your master when the time permits it. Just you wait Lancer!"

She starts cackling at this.

"There's been a change in management with my master. For better or worse. I was hoping the Little Pig would have died as well. It would have made us even."

Her words confuse me. What is she talking about? Praetor did say she seemed insane.

"Besides this means I'll get to see Little Pig again! It was so much fun chasing him before. He wasn't afraid for a second. He must be insane!"

I grudgingly agreed that it was entirely possible that he was insane.

She continues blabbering. "Usually they give up and accept death but he fought till the bitter end. That's so cool! Still, I'll have to punish him for what he did. I wonder what his screams sound like. It'll be so satisfying!"

I briefly entertain the thought of slaying her right here and now.

Before I can act on my desires Lancer starts waving like an idiot before running away.

"We're not done here Saber! I'm the idol of this world and don't you forget it! Say hi to Little Pig for me! I'll be waiting to hear his pleas for forgiveness. Before I kill him of course. Bye!"

And with that she disappears into the crowd.

Since I 'borrowed' the wallet Praetor carries I had his credit card. After purchasing several reasonably priced items I begin to make my way back to the house. I toss the things I purchased into the attic, the room Praetor tried to make me accept.

I pull Praetor out of his fetal position in the toilet room and drag him back to the kitchen.

I could have carried him but it was much more satisfying to push his unconscious form down the stairs and watch him tumble.

It was his fault for attempting to deceive me with false compliments.

The icing on the cake, so to speak, was when I inserted his thumb into his mouth, almost like a newborn infant.

Now all I had to do was wait for him to awaken. What a wonderful moment that will be!

* * *

I wake up sucking on my thumb.

Quickly taking it out of my mouth I sit up.

My chest is still sore.

For whatever reason so is my head and neck.

Almost like I fell down face first.

Weird.

"What happened?"

Saber answers me from her position in a dining room chair. "You uttered insulting lies in an attempt to trick me so I broke several of your bones."

That _totally_ sounds like a fair trade.

"How long was I out?"

"Well, after screaming like a small girl you were unconscious for around two days. It is around five in the afternoon right now."

"TWO DAYS?!" I felt my chin, stubble had started to grow.

"Yes. Strange considering you got up fairly fast the last time I rendered you unconscious."

"That's because I was half drunk. And also, the pasta called for me."

She gave me a blank stare as an answer. Either the joke flew over her head or this is her way of telling me I'm not funny. Everyone's a critic.

"Praetor, you may want to hear this."

I didn't notice it at first but Saber had the television on. The news is saying something about a clown disappearing from a hospital following a large explosion. Police are still investigating as to whether or not it's tied to the shooting said clown survived. So far no leads have surfaced and they can't understand what caused the explosion.

"Woah."

Saber nods. "Yes, 'woah' indeed, the clown fell into a coma two days ago. Yesterday she was pronounced dead. Now a supposed dead person is missing."

"So I killed her?"

"Yes."

"HELL YES! SCREW CLOWNS!"

Saber frowns at me. "Praetor, I feel you should be a bit less jubilant over the death of a clown. Especially considering it is a death you caused."

"SCREW THAT! CLOWNS ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN. SHE TRIED TO EAT ME!"

"Praetor why are you shouting?"

"I DO NOT KNOW!"

"Please cease this senseless noise."

"OK!"

We stand there staring at each other for a second.

"SO WHAT NOW?!"

"PRAETOR, SHUT UP!"

"OK!"

She glares at me.

"I SUPPOSE NOW WE HAVE TO SCOUT THE AREA FOR THE OTHER MASTERS AND THEIR SERVANTS! WE STILL HAVE NOT DISCOVERED WHO THE MASTER OF LANCER IS!"

"Jeez, why are you shouting? So barbaric."

The death glare is directed my way.

"Praetor, I am going to strangle you."

"Kinky."

Death glare intensifies!

The power level. It's over 9000!

Then her sword materializes and I know the fun's come to an end.

"Woah! Calm your tits, I have an idea of what we're going to do." I can tell I've thrown her for a loop.

"What? You assume that I can't come up with a decent idea?"

Saber doesn't answer. Instead she gives me a blank stare. Then she nods in affirmation.

Ouch. My pride has been wounded.

"You're cold as ice."

"That is false. I am as passionate as fire Praetor, but sometimes a harsh attitude must be adopted to allow certain types of people to obtain enlightenment as to how ridiculous their actions are."

I stared at her with a bored look. "I lost you after the 'that is false'."

Saber sighs. "Exactly my point. Forget it for now. What is this plan of yours Praetor?"

"Let me get cleaned up and then I'll tell you."

This causes her to pout at me. "Praetor, it is unwise for you to try and make me wait. I am not a patient individual. It is a trait unnecessary with the status I hold."

She's like a kid being told they can't open up their Christmas presents yet.

"Too bad. I simply love holding you in suspense. See ya!"

With that I rush up the stairs and escape before she can protest any further.

After a quick shower, a shave, and a change of clothes I make my way back downstairs.

Saber's sitting in front of the television. Her foot is tapping the floor.

Well, someone's impatient.

"Come on, follow the man with a plan."

She looks up at me with annoyance. "Praetor, I have been waiting for an hour. You take longer to get ready than most women."

I flash her a grin.

To contradict this my middle finger's thrown up in protest.

"Let's go." I pocket my wallet and we make our way into the garage.

"Praetor, what is that?" Saber points at the lone vehicle parked inside.

"That's my car."

"I was not expecting you to own such a vehicle."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's a Mazda. What were you expecting?"

"Frankly I assumed you to be the type to have something larger."

"Like how large?"

"The largest possible. Something that is extremely loud as well. With an ugly coat of paint."

"Uh. . . sure?"

"Explain the basics of this vehicle."

"It's a 1989 Mazda MX-5. Otherwise known as the Mazda Miata. Two-seater, convertible, retractable headlamps, cherry red paintjob. It might not look it but it's a decent car. It serves its purpose."

Saber merely nods. "Praetor we will discuss later an appropriate replacement."

My jaw drops.

"Who the hell do you think you are?! You can't just decide that! It's my goddamn car! You're lucky I'm even letting you ride with me."

The glare I receive would make lesser men cower.

Instead I defiantly puff out my chest and spread my arms out in the classic 'come at me, bro' pose.

A scowl forms on her face and she starts ranting about how she's the one in charge here and that I needed to stop second guessing and disagreeing with what she said because she's perfection incarnate and can do no wrong.

I ignore her and start to walk to the car.

I grab the keys from where they're hanging on the wall.

Saber's still ranting. At this point her eyes are closed she's so into it.

I start the car and with a click of a button the garage door starts opening.

She's still lost to the world.

So in the most annoying fashion possible I start honking the horn at her.

"Hey! Blondie! Get in!" My exclamation causes her to snap out of her daze.

She puffs her chest out in indignation.

"Stop waving your milk jugs around and get in the damn car!"

This causes her to start shouting at me. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?!"

"What the hell do you think I said? Stop making me wait. Get in the car before I drive off and leave you."

She inhales a deep breath in preparation for what I can only assume to be another tirade.

Thinking fast I offer her a deal in the hopes of appeasing her.

"Saber, if you get in the car I'll buy you whatever you want."

This causes her to stop and think. "Whatever I want?"

"Well, under the circumstance that it has to be at least two things. It's boring to just buy one."

"What if I only want one?"

"Well it's my money so if I say you have to buy more than one thing than you have to buy more than one thing."

"I will only desire one thing for now."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Praetor."

Success, the Looney Tunes style, reverse psychology trick paid off. Bugs Bunny would be proud.

"Will you get in the car now?"

She offers a smirk. "Why Praetor, I did not know that you desired my company this much. If you insist I suppose I have no choice. You are my biggest fan after all."

"Don't flatter yourself. If you want a big fan I'll go buy you one of those industrial ones, that'll make us even."

"Ha ha. You are such a humorous man, Praetor." Her mock laughter and sarcasm annoys me but I let it go.

I'd be in the wrong if I didn't. Considering how I value myself as a sort of connoisseur of all manner of sarcastic mockery.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Of course, let us not wait any longer Praetor."

I grumbled something about it being her fault for making me wait and luckily she doesn't hear it.

That or she just is ignoring it.

I make it to the passenger side before her and open the door for her.

"Why thank you, Praetor, I did not figure you to be the gentlemanly type."

"Shut it, just get in the damn car."

She slides into the seat and sits with her hands in her lap.

In all my wisdom I attempt to be cool.

Intimidation tactics you see.

I try to slide across the hood like an action hero.

The result is me sliding off the hood and landing face first on the ground.

I can hear Saber break out in a fit of laughter. Groaning I attempt to sit up.

Unfortunately I end up smashing my head against the driver's side mirror. I didn't realize that my faceplant had landed me right underneath it.

Saber's laughter increases.

Accepting that my dignity had just taken a large blow I proceed to lift myself off the ground and enter the car.

At this point Saber's holding a hand over her mouth in order to suppress her chuckles. I simply give her a thumbs up and a smirk before slamming the door.

Then I ease out of the garage.

It doesn't take long for her to break into a fit of laughter.

"Praetor! What was that? Were you attempting to impress me? If so you should really try harder next time."

I turn the radio on and ignore her.

The radio's a newish model, I'd installed it shortly after buying the car. The song playing is some sort of annoying J-Pop track so I insert a CD into it.

Rob Zombie's "Living Dead Girl" starts playing.

"Praetor even though you might be embarrassed, your lack of an answer is undignified."

I turn my head to face her and offer a faux smile. "Listen to the song. It reminds me of you so you should like it."

She frowns before sitting in silence. I continue to drive.

At the part in the song where it turns slightly sexual she gets a grin on her face.

"Of course Praetor, this confirms you are in fact a pervert-"

"Just be quiet and listen to the song."

She pouts at this and looks like she's about to argue so I simply increase the radio's volume.

The cannibalistic part near the end causes her to grimace.

"Praetor what is this even about?"

"Dunno, I'd say the best interpretation would be how women can be the downfall of men."

It clicks in her head what I implied when I said the song reminded me of her. She starts glaring at me.

"Where are you taking me Praetor?" Her question is harsh, I can tell she's angry with me.

Big surprise.

"We're going to the hospital."

"Oh? You hurt yourself that much just from a simple fall?"

"Ha ha. No, we're going to check the area for clues as to what happened with that clown. Something seems off with the whole situation don't you think?"

"I suppose Praetor, are you not afraid of the police being there and recognizing you?"

"Not really, it's not like we can't handle it."

"Did you plan ahead just in case?"

"Nope. Don't need to."

She sighs at this. "Very well then, I suppose it does not really matter either way."

We sit in silence for a few seconds. The song ends so I turn the radio off so as not to offend Saber even more.

"Praetor why did you turn it off?"

"Because I doubt that you want to hear any more."

She appears to think this over for a moment.

"Perhaps you are right, however no music is worse than whatever music you have."

I just sit there, not offering anything.

Then she asks a question that completely surprises me.

"Praetor, can you sing?"

"What?"

"Can you sing?"

"Uh. . . why?"

"Praetor, I find beauty in music. It is an art after all. That is why I enjoyed my time in those 'karaoke bars' as you called them. While we were there you appeared to enjoy yourself immensely."

I don't correct her as to why I was enjoying myself.

"You also seem to enjoy music quite a lot, what with all these songs you have. I was wondering if you could sing."

"I suppose I could. Really anybody could."

I mean look at you. You don't have to be decent to sing. It can just be terrible singing.

"Would you show me?"

"Nope." I deny her request without a single thought. This causes her to frown.

"Praetor, I order you to sing for me."

"You what?"

"By my command you shall sing for my pleasure."

"See, I think you have the roles reversed. I could simply use a command spell right now and have you do pretty much anything I wanted. You don't have the same control over me."

"Why now, Praetor, already you are suggesting such acts? More and more you confirm my suspicions."

"Shut it. I'm not singing."

This results in her trying a different act. She starts pouting at me with puppy eyes.

"Praetor, it would bring me great enjoyment to hear you sing."

"Why? You know what? Forget it." I start singing the ABCs.

After I finish I look at her in expectation. She frowns at me and shakes her head.

"Praetor that is not what I meant. I mean an actual song."

*Sigh.

"Alright, fine I'll sing."

I start singing "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a man of wealth and taste."

The song starts like this and continues through to the end. It's strange without the instrumental side. Essentially I perform it a cappella.

I keep driving without saying anything.

At a red light I turn and look at her.

For whatever reason she's wiping tears from her eyes.

"Why the hell are you crying?"

"Praetor, that. . . that was beautiful. I did not know you were capable of such talent!"

"Uh. . . gee thanks." I rub the back of my neck since I don't really know how to respond to her. She grabs onto the arm I still have on the steering wheel and starts to shake it.

"Praetor, you should join me!"

"Uh, aren't we already partners?"

"No! Normally I would never think of it, but your voice is truly beautiful. Sure, it is not as fabulous as my own, but with practice perhaps you could obtain something closer to my perfection. In order to gain this needed experience I believe you need a tutor, no a mentor, to look out for you and guide your blossoming talent to the quality it deserves. Join me Praetor, and together we shall be the greatest duet to ever live, rivaling the gods!"

I simply blink at her.

"Of course I will always surpass you, but I like to think that aiding the lesser privileged with the arts allows me to further my own abilities."

I break out into laughter.

The car behind me honks their horn. The light's turned green. I flip them the bird and start accelerating. Now it's my turn to wipe tears from my eyes.

"That was great, thanks for that. Probably the funniest thing you've ever said. Woah, man I'm in pain from laughing so much."

She frowns. "Praetor, perhaps you do not understand the great generosity I am showing you. You should be honored that I am even allowing you this."

"Thanks but I'm good."

"Praetor, I feel you are concluding this too quickly. You must avoid being rash in important decisions such as this. The remainder of your life could be altered by the choice you make. Now I will propose the offer a second time. You should feel honored that I would repeat myself. Normally I would not, but your talent is too great for me to allow it to be squandered. Now, as I was saying previously-"

Before she can repeat her offer something smashes into her side of the car. It's almost as if we'd been hit by a freight train.

Or the goddamn Hulk.

It takes all I have to keep the car from flipping.

Instead it spins out of control and smashes into the side of a building. The right side, my side, is jammed against the wall. The impact causes the car to go on two wheels for a moment before landing back on all fours.

I smashed my head against the steering wheel upon impact. It takes me a moment but I manage to shake off the confusion and start looking around.

The windshield's shattered. Saber's groaning in the seat next to me. Whatever hit us crashed into her side so I suppose her shock outweighs mine. We're on the sidewalk now, it's a miracle no bystanders got hurt.

Wait. . . that's strange. No one's around. The guy who blew his horn at me is gone. There are no pedestrians, no traffic.

Where'd everyone go?

At that moment I hear a bloodcurdling roar from the left of me.

Turning my head I look out of Saber's broken window.

Immediately I understand the situation we're in.

The 'thing' that hit us is standing nearby observing the wreckage.

Whatever it is it's something clearly abnormal. It's bipedal, and humanoid, but clearly something supernatural. Its skin is a reddish purple color, maybe magenta. It towers over the car, I can tell it's at least ten feet tall. On its back there are some sort of wings, but from a practical view it's easy to tell that with their sharp, crystalline shape and this creature's size that they'd be completely useless for flight. The entire thing's body is built as if it's stone. From the size of its muscular structure and the fact that it just smashed into a moving vehicle and practically demolished it, I can tell it's extremely strong.

Similar to the wings, other crystal like structures protrude from its appendages, as well as its head. The ones sticking out of its head are alien to me. I can't tell if it's supposed to be a mane, antlers, or some sort of horns. Hell, it could be some retro type of hairstyle for all I knew about this thing. In contrast to its skin tone, lighter purplish lines run patters all over its body. They're almost like letters in a neon sign.

The worst part is the thing's face. One eye shines brighter than the other. Both are like small flames. Lines of the same level of brightness run from its eyes. Almost like tear stains.

Well at least I'm dealing with an emotional monster. That makes this situation so much more wonderful. Maybe I can read him some poetry and we'll debate human emotions and-

My thoughts are cut short when the creature starts shouting again. Well there goes that idea.

The mouth of this beast is the creepiest thing. It's like a permanent smile. Almost like a Glasgow smile in how it's shaped. The type of smile you'd see on a doll or a puppet. Reminds me of a goddamn clown.

The thought makes me shiver.

The thing starts slowly advancing towards us.

I start lightly tapping Saber in order to stir her from her dazed state.

Ok, maybe my idea of lightly tapping was more akin to slapping her repeatedly while screaming that we were going to get eaten.

At least I wasn't wetting myself.

Yet.

It takes a moment but Saber somehow begins to understand what's happening. She smashes her door off. . . .

"WHY'D YOU DO THAT?!" My outburst at this time causes her to give me a puzzled look.

"Praetor, I had to get out."

"JUST OPEN THE DAMN DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! EVEN THOUGH HE HIT IT, IT WASN'T JAMMED LIKE MY SIDE!"

"How would I open it?" I pointed at the discarded door's handle.

"Oh. I knew that." She looks down at the door like an idiot before regaining her composure.

I'm still trapped in the car fuming at her while trying not to panic at the approaching behemoth.

Saber's sword materializes from who knows where and she points it in the direction of the beast.

"Halt monster! You shall go no further. I will protect my Praetor. How dare you ambush us like this, do you not know your place?"

The monster roars at her in response.

"Saber! What the hell was that? You missed out on the perfect opportunity to use a Gandalf quote!"

She stares at me like I'm speaking a foreign language, mouthing 'what' at my exclamation.

"Oh screw it. Just get me out of here!" My seatbelt's stuck and the door's jammed so at this point my options are limited.

Before she can act the monster charges her and they start some sort of brawl.

From the few moments of interest I show towards the scenario I can tell she's doing diddly-shit when she strikes it. For a moment I can at least say she's on the offensive until the thing stops taking the useless blows and starts fighting back.

She dodges the first punch, then the second, but the third one hits her square in the torso and sends her into my wrecked car.

"Oh come on! Hasn't this thing taken enough of a beating? How the hell am I going to fix all of this?!" Saber replies with a glare as she starts getting back up.

I nervously chuckle. "You know what you should do? Help me get out of here."

She ignores this and rushes the monster to restart the fight. I start cheering her on like a sports fan, occasionally offering pieces of advice like a boxing coach.

"Swing up! Up again! Now down! Another down! Now left, right! Left, right again! Now hit the B button followed by the A button and we should be good!" Saber turns towards me and starts shouting at me before the beast smashes its fist into her side.

She's blasting off again.

This time into a nearby storefront.

There's a shatter of glass and I can tell she's knocked over more than a few displays. When the smoke clears she manages to get back up and charge the creature yet again. It immediately starts spamming punches at her.

"Do a barrel roll!"

"Shut up Praetor!"

"Ok!"

I start trying to make myself useful.

The first issue in the way is the seatbelt. I start pulling at it like I'm a tug of war master before realizing, like an idiot, that all I had to do was push the button to free myself.

Saber goes flying off again and the monster starts eyeballing me.

For a moment we stare at each other.

Then I give him the peace sign.

He roars at me and starts charging the car.

"Make peace not war dude!" I try to jump out Saber's side but he's already there smashing his fist through the opening.

"SABER! I _really_ need you now!" I hear her issue a battle cry before smashing into the thing's back. It ends up falling on the car.

I narrowly avoid being crushed by gluing myself to the right side's door.

The thing gets up and starts throwing punches at Saber yet again. Since he fell on the car the left side is now crushed completely, sealing off my only exit.

"Goddammit! I'm not dying in a Mazda!"

I start furiously kicking at the convertible top, hoping I can manage to hit it off even with the car being crushed like a tin can. For good measure I reinforce my legs with prana. After the fifth or sixth blow the top peels back a bit. On the ninth it pops off.

I start pulling myself out of the vehicle. It takes a moment but I manage to safely maneuver myself out of the wreckage. From my mouth comes a sigh of relief.

"Thank Pesci for convertibles." I glance at the fight going on between Saber and the monster. Clearly she's at a disadvantage.

"Well looks like I have to rush in and save the day. Swooping the damsel in distress off her feet, all that shit."

I conjure up the Beretta 92A1. After loading it I aim at the monster and pull the trigger.

In response the gun blows up in my hand.

"Holy. . . !" I can't finish my surprised reaction as the creature turns its attention away from Saber (after smacking her away) and glares at me.

I check to make sure my hands are still intact and once confirming they are I toss the destroyed pistol away, put them behind my back and start innocently whistling.

The creature simply starts charging me.

The thing tackles me and tosses me into my wrecked Mazda.

I smash into the stereo. Rubbing my head I slowly get up. Luckily for me I'm not that hurt.

On my way up I end up smacking against the stereo and it turns on. Looking at the ignition I realize that I left the car keys in and the auxiliary's still on. The Rob Zombie CD's still in.

"Superbeast" starts blaring from the car.

A moment passes and nothing happens, then for whatever reason things just start clicking in my head.

I access my prana yet again and the Beretta forms in my hand. Taking aim I start popping off shots at the monster. Of course they do nothing but distract him but the fact that the handgun's actually working makes me ecstatic.

At this point I don't know where Saber is and I'm sitting in a wrecked car taking pot shots with a 9mm pistol at a behemoth.

Basically I'm royally screwed.

The monster roars at my direction and starts taking up the charge yet again.

"I need something bigger."

Thinking fast I reinforce myself and the Smith &amp; Wesson Model 500 materializes. The support of prana flowing through me and my brief experience with the gun allows me to handle the recoil.

The first shot staggers the beast.

The second makes him take a step back.

But by the third it's gotten used to the impact and keeps charging no matter how many times I fire.

"This isn't cutting it! Saber! Where the hell are you?!"

The beast rushes towards me. Scenes I'd seen only in action movies start popping into my head. It's a long shot but I figure that right now I don't exactly have anything to lose.

I hold the revolver in my left hand.

A second Model 500 becomes projected in my right.

"Look ma two hands!"

I start firing at the monster. If I hadn't reinforced my body I'd probably have dislocated my arms. Most of the bullets miss, accuracy isn't really a thing when you're shooting two firearms at once, but occasionally when one would happen to hit the beast he'd hesitate.

When I started alternating between which gun I fired, around three shots in, my accuracy increased tremendously. Nearly all my remaining rounds impacted into the beast. The shots managed to make it ends it's charge. Instead it towered over my position, glaring at my figure.

"Come on pal! I don't have all day!"

Despite my bravado I'm not so idiotic as to expect a victory in this fight. Already I'm going over plans of escape in my head. Though the way this thing moves, and the strength of its hits makes me think getting away would be a difficult task.

And that's if Saber was backing me up. She's still nowhere in sight.

Part of me has already concluded the thing's killed her. The other part hopes she's just screwing with me.

I start preparing myself to make a break for it. Right now the beast and I are staring at each other as if this is some sort of Mexican standoff.

Each of the revolvers had five shots when I started firing. Now the one in my left hand is completely empty and the one in my right only has a single round left. My best bet would be to whip out another gun and hope for the best. I hesitate to do that though. I have no idea as to what my limits are with magic. I've never tried to test it. I didn't feel tired but that could just be the adrenaline keeping me going. I'd heard of magi dying from using too much magic. I didn't know what I was capable of.

The monster roared at me.

"You know what? Screw it. Better to die trying."

I fired the final round and proceeded to toss the guns away Matrix style.

I jump out of the wrecked car and start rushing the monster.

He screams at me and charges.

I have to think bigger.

Bigger.

The biggest.

Something that would stop even an elephant.

In my hands a gun starts forming. This thing's a monster, just a wild beast. All I needed was a caliber big enough to put it down. But in this scenario I couldn't use something like a 20mm or else I wouldn't be able to fire it on the go.

My mind was strange. When I started thinking of hunting big game Teddy Roosevelt popped into it. That's when I remembered one of the guns he used. They still made the things and on one of my bored nights staying up I'd actually looked it up.

The company that made them was called Holland &amp; Holland. They dubbed it the 'Royal' Double Barrel Rifle. The thing shot a .700 Nitro Express cartridge. Which was a behemoth of a round. The price of one of these rifles was more than I would have made in five years at my old job.

Within seconds I was holding one and charging at a monster.

What I was holding was the epitome of beauty. The stock was made from the finest grade of walnut. There was a gold oval inlaid with my initials on it. Engravings adorned the weapon's metal. They rivaled the finest of museum pieces. The best part was that this beauty was a 'double trigger'. Which meant the two barrels holding .700 caliber rounds could be fired almost instantaneously of one another.

I rushed the beast.

The poor bastard didn't know what awaited him.

"Superbeast" was still blaring from the demolished car's stereo.

Within around ten feet from the monster I stop charging. He doesn't hesitate in his continuous approach.

I kiss the rifle's barrel, hoping that I'd be lucky and this thing would actually work. If I screwed up in projecting it I'd be a dead man.

I took aim. The beast was almost upon me. Time for the badass last words.

"THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK!" I pulled both triggers at once.

The recoil was amazing. Even with my reinforced body I almost lost control of the gun. It would definitely take some time to get used to.

The rounds smash into the monster and he stumbles backwards. I can actually see blood trickle from its chest. The liquid is some strange purplish color.

The monster manages to keep itself upright but slumps over in place. For a moment I think I've won. Then it straightens itself and unleashes another furious roar. The wounds I gave it are already healed.

"Oh come on!" It begins the charge yet again.

"Aw shit! Saber!" My call for help is answered.

From out of the blue a sword slashes down the monster's back causing it to hesitate. The creature turns towards the direction the attack came from.

Saber's standing there, panting, but remaining upright nonetheless.

"You. . . you think. . . that I would give up? Never. . . I said I would. . . slay. . . you. . . for. . . Praetor."

Her words come in between gasps for air. I can tell she's at her limit.

Her words of determination almost give me a warm fuzzy feeling. Almost.

You know what? Screw it. She's not giving up. Neither am I.

This is definitely going to hurt like hell.

I project two new bullets and reload my rifle.

Then I tap into my inner reserves of prana.

A second double barrel rifle is projected.

I hold one in each hand.

"The Bible did say, 'Two are better than one'!"

I point both rifles at the monster while it's distracted.

Both pairs of triggers are pulled at the same time.

My arms fly upwards. I can only hope that nothing's broken or dislocated.

Four .700 caliber rounds impact the monster's back.

The pressure shoves it to the ground.

As soon as it collapses I shout at Saber, who's shocked from this turn of events.

"Run as fast as those short legs can let you!" This causes her to give me the most terrifying look I've ever seen in my life. It's so bad I'm more scared of her than the monster.

"What did you say?" Apparently she's stopped panting just in time to give me the seriously angry voice you'd hear from a scolding mother. I of course properly handle the situation.

"I said get your ass moving dwarf!" The resulting wail that comes from her mouth rivals the monster's roar.

I take off running. Both of the rifles have dematerialized. "Would you have preferred if I said 'little person'?!"

She responds with a scream.

Doing my best impression of parkour I launch myself over the wrecked car, ejecting the CD and pocketing it as I go. Can't let good music go to waste.

We keep running. Well, I'm running, Saber's doing something more like chasing.

I'm kind of surprised she hasn't caught up to me by now. The creature must have really given her a run for her money.

Speaking of that creature. As I run I glance behind me. Besides Saber charging with her face contorted in rage I can see that the monster's already lifted itself off the ground. The thing's fully healed yet again. Neither the bullets nor Saber's sword did any permanent damage.

To my surprise it doesn't charge. Instead it watches the scene unfolding in front of it with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Damn, even monsters enjoy my role as the comic relief.

The cat and mouse chase between Saber and I continues for at least a mile. At the end of it I'm exhausted.

Leaning against the wall of an alleyway I gasp for breath. Saber slowly approaches me with a malicious grin on her face.

"Praetor, I ask you again. What did you say to me?"

"I. . . said. . . run. . . you. . . height. . . challenged. . . midget. . . ."

Her response is a swift kick to my stomach.

Hey, she's alternated from the usual punch. Seems she's spicing things up a bit. . . .

Dammit.

She follows up the kick with one of her dreaded punches. This time it hits me right in the face.

"I CAN'T AFFORD PLASTIC SURGERY!" I collapse on the ground.

Saber turns her back on me.

Fortunately my use of reinforcement magic keeps me from blacking out. Instead I lay on the ground for a moment before slowly sitting up.

Then I start doing basic first aid using healing spells.

"Hey Saber, it didn't follow us."

Saber doesn't turn around. "Yes. It seems it did not."

For a moment I continue to heal myself as Saber faces away from me.

"Why do you think it gave up?"

She doesn't answer and I start thinking that maybe she didn't hear me. Then she responds.

"Maybe it was fed up by your irritating presence." She says this with as much venom as possible.

"Ouch."

We stay in silence.

"I was joking ok?"

She doesn't respond.

"I just said that to get you moving. If we had stayed there that thing would have killed us."

Still no response.

"Look, Saber-"

She turns around and cuts me off. Her voice is strained with emotion.

"Do you not trust in me?! I would have defeated it Praetor! Why did you interfere! I told you I would protect you!" She turns back around.

At this point a wise man would get up and hug her. Like in one of those cheesy boy meets girl movies.

I wasn't wise, and emotions weren't my thing.

This wasn't a movie. It was war.

That was something that needed to be understood. We were essentially soldiers in conflict.

Do or die.

"If the enemy had been anything else I am confident you would have protected me efficiently."

My voice has become cold.

Calculated.

I allow no emotions to be shown. This is a tone I've often adapted for use.

Sometimes I don't even know which voice is my true one.

"That wasn't the average enemy. Clearly if that was a Servant it was of the Berserker class. Nothing we did even made a scratch. The thing simply healed. If it had decided to follow us we would be dead right now. You were in no shape to continue the battle. If I hadn't stepped in and acted as a distraction who knows what would have happened."

Again I'm met with silence.

Then she spins around and marches up to me. She starts poking at my chest with each word she says.

"You dare to doubt me Praetor! I would have won! I cannot lose. My skill rivals the gods. I am perfect! There can be nothing but victory for us. Defeat is impossible!"

I simply stare at her as if she's insane. "You believe you can't lose?"

In response she glares at me with a scowl on her face.

I start laughing at her. "Are you joking? 'Defeat is impossible'. Surely you aren't serious? Defeat is an ever present factor of life. Failure is inevitable. You can't live a life of perfection. There is no such thing as 'always winning'. If you don't fail how can you learn and adapt?"

She stares at me.

I place a hand on her shoulder.

She ends up shrugging it off. This rejection doesn't affect me in the slightest.

"Saber. The sheer notion of perfection is imperfect. Defeat is possible. Perfection is not. This idea you have that you cannot lose is going to end up killing both of us. Sometimes the best choice is to retreat. Now we at least have time to go over what happened and what it is that we're dealing with."

She scoffs at my words. "Really Praetor? What great plan can you come up with? That monster would have crushed you without my presence being there!"

I tilt my head to the side in a puzzled expression.

"Did I say I could do it without you? Clearly you misinterpreted my words. I am not saying I am capable of lasting by myself. Quite honestly you saved my life by being there. And I thank you for that. Sure you could have showed up a little bit earlier but you showed up when I needed your help. That's all that matters to me. The second it ambushed us I knew we weren't going to be able to defeat it. The game was rigged from the start. Our enemies had some sort of boundary field up. That's the only explanation for why the streets were empty in a city like this. I have no idea as to the nature of that field. It could have been anything."

She stares at me in surprise. I place my hand on her shoulder yet again. This time she allows it.

"Saber, I don't doubt you. But I understand everyone has limits no matter who or what they are. To understand your limitations allows you to be truly strong. Being perfect is boring. It's illogical, and it's inhumane. You are most certainly none of these. Unfortunately it seems you are the one who doubts me."

Her face turns red and she starts stammering. "W-w-what?! Of course not Praetor!"

I offer her a grin. "Well, I need you to trust me a bit more. Understand that my words and actions aren't meant to offend without provocation. My relationship with you is that of a joker. To others I am a heckler. Feel proud in knowing that. But don't let it go to your head that I'm giving you special treatment. I mean, it's understandable why I am isn't it? You are the one in charge after all." With this I wink at her.

She actually lightens up and responds with a large smile.

Speech check successful.

The dream I had about her comes to mind. Part of me wants to question her over it but I know more than to pry. It might cause her to think we've bonded. Then she'll start questioning me about my past. Asking her would be shooting myself in the foot.

"Why of course Praetor, I am the more capable out of the two of us."

And then she goes and makes me want to take back everything and just go 'screw it'.

I groan at her response.

She starts laughing. It's a hearty laugh. Certainly not the typical feminine laughter I'd expect from a girl of her appearance.

She wipes a tear out of the corner of her eye and looks at me.

We're in close proximity with one another and neither of us are willing to budge.

To me it's a test of willpower.

She's clearly trying to intimidate me.

"So you truly do not doubt me?" She says it while biting her lip. It's like she want an affirmation over the truth in my words.

Since I have no reason to lie I just shrug. "Not really. There's no reason to. You're of the strongest class so I'm confident in your abilities. I have no reason not to trust you. We're partners."

Either it's my imagination or her eyes twinkle.

My characteristic smirk pops up again. "But the thing is. If I didn't interfere what would be the point of me being here? You got to let me take a few pot shots here and there or else I might as well get a recliner and drink a beer while watching you kick ass."

The laughter returns.

"Very well Praetor, I understand your desire for combat. You would not be my Master otherwise."

I scowl at this.

"Bringing that word up again? Jeez I guess I really am going to have to use a Command Spell."

She playfully punches me in the shoulder.

"Come now Praetor, are we not over this yet?"

"Nowhere near over it. You don't want to know what I think of every time you say that word."

She lifts an eyebrow in puzzlement. A smirk forms on her face. "Oh? Now why would I not?"

"Ha ha. Funny. Let's just get to that hospital. I want to get this done with as soon as possible. I hate hospitals almost as much as I hate clowns."

She snorts at this. "Do not tell me you are afraid of needles?"

I mumble under my breath about how annoying she is.

She smirks.

"I will take that as a 'yes'."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just start walking. That monster's going to pay, by the way, for trashing my ride."

"Oh? That reminds me Praetor, you still owe me something."

"Dammit I thought you forgot."

"I would never forget a debt."

"Let's worry about that after this little trip is done with."

We start walking towards the hospital.

I don't know what's going to be there as a clue but anything's better than nothing.

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**Well, I've finally finished another chapter. Sorry for this especially long wait. Lot of thing have come up. Getting an Xbox One being one of them. Not the wisest investment but the thing currently responsible for my aforementioned lack of money. Final exams have also been coming up so that's obviously been taking its toll. To make up for the wait I've made this chapter the longest one since Chapter 1. Yes, this is breaking the rule I made where each chapter would be between six and eight thousand words. The way I see it, rules are meant to be broken. Also, I've started incorporating italicized words in order to add emphasis on certain things. Hope you enjoyed it! -SB**

**P.S. I ended up removing that short little prologue I wrote. I kept reading it over and it just didn't sit well with me. It felt tacked on and useless. There really was no need to have an intro to the canon. It just felt like I was backtracking. Sorry for any confusion! This entire thing is a work in progress for me so I'll make little edits here and there while taking you guys' feedback into consideration.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: None of the Type-Moon universe is mine. Obviously it is Type-Moon's. If it weren't it wouldn't be called the 'Type-Moon universe'. Frankly I'm glad I don't own it. Running a universe is a lot of work. Plus 'silverbug28 universe' just doesn't have the same ring to it.**

* * *

**Chapter 6- Boys in Blue and Girls in Red **

The hospital ended up being a complete waste. It pissed me off to no end since my car was demolished because of this little trip.

At first I'd taken the simplistic approach and asked around the nurses for an idea of what happened. I was pleasantly surprised when they actually responded to my questions.

Probably just figured me to be a curious guy who heard the story on the news.

I was fairly certain though that there were regulations against disclosing information to strangers. Though in the end it didn't really matter. None of them knew anything. No witnesses nearby when the clown vanished. All they could do was sum up what happened from what they'd seen on the news. Then they'd resort to gossip. Rumors could sometimes hold a grain of truth to them but the ideas they came up with were worse than the craziest conspiracy theories.

Half of them needed to start wearing tin foil hats.

To make matters worse one of the nurses seemed to recognize me. I could tell from the look she gave me. The woman had one of the worst Poker faces I'd ever seen.

I calmly started walking as far away as possible after thanking her for talking to me. As soon as I started moving away she rushed to a phone.

I had to quickly make my way back to Saber and we exited the building.

She had been a pain throughout.

Since she was still wearing that idiotic dress she stood out like a sore thumb. Then she insisted on speaking to the nurses after I did.

That went as well as expected.

At one point she almost got us kicked out after she started shouting at a nurse in Latin. It almost stunned me how amazing her profanity was. The fact that she was of the upper class and an emperor had me conclude that she'd be the type never to divulge in the obscene. She said almost every insult in the book. A sailor would have paled if they'd heard her.

Of course the nurse didn't understand a word. All she understood was that some blonde was screaming at her in a foreign language while gesturing with her hands.

I don't even know what started this. The nurse had just winked at me and then whispered to Saber. The only thing I heard was "He's not? Lucky me."

And that's when Saber started her tirade. I hadn't heard Latin for years and I was pleased with my reintegration to the language. I was like a prepubescent teen. Profanity always intrigued me.

I had to pull Saber away before security was called.

Standing out in the parking lot I was almost regretting that I had. Either way we would have been sitting outside without any clue as to what happened. Except if security had showed up I would have had an entertaining show. Front row seats and all. That would have been perfect if I was able to project popcorn.

"That was great." I state this without thinking.

Saber looks towards me. "What was Praetor?"

I started laughing. "The way you ranted at that nurse. It was hilarious. A real thing of beauty."

She puffed out her cheeks. "Are you mocking me Praetor?"

I kept laughing. "For once I'm actually not. Jeez, where'd you even learn those words? I'm going to have to step my game up or else I'll fall behind in the profanity department."

Her head tipped to the side. A confused expression was on her face. "Well. . . of course. Um. . . Praetor. . . you have a strange way of thinking."

I kept laughing in response.

Then I noticed from the corner of my eye that two cops were actually approaching us.

Both of them looked like the stereotypical officer of the law, crisp uniforms, those goofy police hats, and the walk that was their attempt at exuding authority. One's a young guy. The other looks to be in his late fifties. Their patrol car was parked at the curb. I stop laughing.

"Shit. They responded faster than I thought they would. Saber start walking. Make your way into the crowd. You're still going to stand out but it'll be better than sitting in the open."

Her face becomes serious. "Praetor, I cannot abandon you."

I smirk at her. "Who said anything about abandoning? I'm going to speak to the officers, sort this out, and then make my way to you. It's not a problem. Besides these are cops, you can't just pull out your sword and attack them all willy-nilly."

Her face shows she's not convinced. "Praetor. . . ."

"Just go. I'll be there soon."

She sighs in frustration. "Do not do anything insane. It seems that every time I leave you alone something terrible happens."

"That's not true, when you left me in the toilet room I was fine."

She stared at me in surprise. "How. . . ?"

"I'm not that heavy of a sleeper. I woke up while you were gone but ended up not caring enough to worry about it. So I just went back to sleep. And by the way, even when you're with me things go wrong."

Again she releases a sigh. Was that relief showing? Wait. . . what else did she do to me while I was asleep?!

"I suppose you are right. Hurry back to me once you have dealt with this." She rushes off into the crowd. Jeez, could you be any less obvious Saber?

It hits me that we never established a rendezvous location. Knowing her though it wouldn't be hard to pick her out of a crowd.

The younger cop gasps and starts rushing forward in an attempt to intercept her. She's too fast for him. He can't even keep track of her movements, she's disappeared with the crowd before he can even try to find her.

I simply stand there. I'm slightly annoyed by this turn of events. "I suppose you two charming officers are here to handle me? Sorry fellas, now's a bad time. Any chance we can reschedule this for some other time?"

The second, and older, cop starts chuckling while the one who chased after Saber makes his way back to me. "That's not going to happen. Hands behind your back. You're under arrest."

"On what charges?"

"Stop bullshitting your face is all over. You know what you did."

I smirk at him. "That's not how this works. At least my lawyer says so. Guy's named Wright, real impressive man. Some would call him an ace. You'll hear from him soon enough. Now tell me what I'm under arrest for. I have rights you know?"

Again he starts chuckling. "Rights my ass." He takes a step towards me.

"Hey pal, don't get in my bubble. I tend to bite."

The guy just continues chuckling. "I'm real scared punk." Then he advances a bit more.

Immediately I've projected the Smith &amp; Wesson in my right hand. The stainless steel barrel, measuring over eight inches, is pointed right at the officer's forehead. "You were saying?"

The poor guy looks like he's about to wet himself. I'm pretty sure he wasn't prepared for me to pull the revolver out. From his perspective it must have looked like I'd pulled it right out of my ass.

"Ever hear the saying 'power comes from the barrel of a gun'? Well right now you have no power. That badge means nothing."

The second cop draws his .38 from his holster. I recognize it as a Taurus. His revolver hold five shots just like mine. Mine just packs a hell of a bigger punch.

"Officer there's no need to draw. This isn't the Wild West after all. It's not like I'm looking forward to a showdown. Put the gun away, take your idiot of a partner, get in your patrol car and just drive on back to the station. You can even report that you found me. I suggest avoiding that though, it wouldn't look good for either of you if word got back that you let a suspect get away."

I'm smirking at the guy. Even though he's pointing a gun at me both of us know he won't pull the trigger. At this point I'm fairly confident in myself.

That's when Chuckles knocks my hand up throwing off the aim I had on him.

Without hesitating I form the second S&amp;W in my left hand. The other cop already lowered his gun. Instead during their brief window of opportunity he's pulled out a Taser.

I maneuver the gun in my left hand, the sights are set right on him. My only thought is on avoiding being incapacitated. I pull the trigger. The revolver doesn't go off.

"Why. . . ?" The chuckling cop strikes me before I can even reinforce myself. Both of the guns fall out of my hands.

Then before I can even exclaim "Don't tase me bro!" I'm stunned by the officer's Taser.

A few hundred thousand jolts later and I'm lying face down on the ground with handcuffs slapped on my wrists. They quickly frisk me, probably thinking I'm packing another firearm.

When they don't come up with anything I'm tossed rather roughly by Chuckles into the back of their car. The one who used the Taser on me starts the car and we start driving to what I can only assume is the police station.

At this point I feel lucky to have held on to consciousness. My entire body is in pain and it's difficult to think coherently, let alone move my body. But it only takes a few minutes into the drive before I've started to regain some semblance of maneuverability and rationality.

Chuckles sees fit to taunt me. "Hey punk. Who's that girl you were hanging around with? She seemed kind of cute. I'm going to have all sorts of questions for her when we pick her up."

The one driving simply stares ahead, ignoring his obnoxious partner. "Both of you are foreigners right? Always wanted to try it with a foreigner. Hey, if you're willing to put a good word in for me I might try and convince them to give you probation after you've served twenty or so years in the slammer." It insults me that this moron assumes I'm so stupid to think he'd have any power over such a thing. Not only that, I find him disgusting. Which is saying a lot considering my personality.

"Always wanted to try it with a foreigner? Sorry pal I'm not into that type of thing. I bet it'd feel similar if you just shoved one of your police batons up your ass. You probably know more about that then I do. Oh. . . but you meant the chick, that's right, I doubt she'd be into it either since you're a crusty old relic. How rusted is your sword by the way?"

Fury shows on the guy's face. He looks about ready to strike me. His partner shakes his head in the negative.

"Want some advice you old bag? Head on down to your local pharmacy and ask for a thing called Viagra. That'll help you go fuck yourself."

A fist connects with my face. Guess he finally reached the boiling point. I start laughing now. The moron's pissed me off.

With my hands behind my back I whip up a firearm that's more concealable than the S&amp;W revolvers I'd previously had. That mean it's easier to maneuver around with it, even while being cuffed.

"Hey Chuckles, get me a martini, shaken, not stirred." I've managed to wiggle around the seatbelt. Lucky for me they didn't actually handcuff me to the car itself.

Awkwardly clasped in my two bound hands is a Walther PPK that hold eight rounds of .32 ACP.

The older cop sees the gun and starts panicking. His entire face goes white.

This car's an older, cheaper Nissan model, and it lacks any shielding between where I am and where the cops are.

I remember hearing that the Fuyuki police department was severely underfunded. About a decade or so ago they'd renovated an area of the city where an orphanage once stood. Something about needing to modernize the neighborhood. It was evident that money should have been spent somewhere else.

I fire a round into the glove compartment right in front of Chuckles. At this point I'd rather skip the pleasantries, but I have to make my position known. These two have to understand that this gun will go off.

His reaction would basically be defined as 'losing one's cool'. The moron starts wiggling around in his seat, as if by doing so he could avoid being shot.

"Ok. It was fun while it lasted. But I'm kind of needed somewhere else, so here's what I want you to do. See that alley on the right? Pull into it."

The driver complies without a word.

"Now I want you to park the car here. Leave the car on. Then hand me the key to these handcuffs."

Chuckles is at the point of having a mental breakdown. What happened to all that talk tough guy? The driver merely sighs as he hands me the keys. With the cuffs off it's easy to keep my aim on them. I take the intelligent approach and aim the gun at the driver. It worries me that he's so calm.

"Chuckles, I want you to get out and open my door. Remove your gun from its holster and toss it back here. Do the same with your Taser, pepper spray, etc. No funny business." Chuckles looks about ready to piss himself, but he listens and does as I say.

The whole time I have the gun trained on the driver. "Get out too. Leave all your stuff in the car like Chuckles did. I want both of you in front of the car."

They listen so I remove myself from the car as well. "Now I want both of you to pull down each other's pants." They start to protest so I violently wave the gun in their direction. The result is them listening.

"Now start walking in a straight line, each footstep directly in front of the other. Imagine you're walking along a tightrope."

"You can't be serious." It's the driver who says this. Chuckles is about ready to cry.

"I am very much so." A bullet impacts the ground right near his foot. Someone shouts from the street behind us. They end up following through. They fall down more than a few times while trying their best at performing a good show. Each time they do I shake the gun at them and they get back up and continue.

"That's enough. It was rather pitiful, but humiliating enough to sate my desire for revenge. You don't know how many times I've been forced to go perform that little demonstration. Now I want both of you to strip to your boxers and hand me everything." They don't even protest at this point. I've shattered their dignity. I take their clothes, pull out a few pairs of handcuffs from the car and slap them on their wrists and ankles. For good measure I pistol-whip Chuckles in the face. He collapses without any protest.

The younger cop speaks up. "You can't do that! That's assault on an officer!"

"I can't? But I just did? I suppose you could just add that to the twenty years dipshit here promised. I was thinking twenty was on the low side anyway." After saying this I get in the car and drive off, leaving them partially naked and bound in an alleyway.

I change into the driver's uniform in the car while sitting in a parking lot. After that's done I drive to a music store in the Westerner section of the city.

Entering the building I notice no one's around except the cashier. I quickly flash him the cop's badge.

"Officer McLovin reporting for duty, I'm with the police. I'm going to need you to get me some particular CDs. It's important for a case."

The cashier's a guy in his early twenties. The look he gives me says "What does that have anything to do with police work?" Obviously he's suspicious of everything about me.

"Please sir, your cooperation is essential. It's an issue of national security." Only an idiot would fall for this. . . but apparently said cashier just so happens to have the IQ of a cockroach as he does what I ask. Or maybe it was the handgun holstered at my side and the scowl on my face.

I leave and proceed to drive around the city, windows down with the radio blaring an alternation of N.W.A's "Fuck tha Police", KRS-One's "Sound of da Police" and the reggae band Inner Circle's hit "Bad Boys". Finally I could check this off my bucket list. More than a few bystanders toss me curious glances.

The police radio starts buzzing with activity.

A while back I'd actually researched the codes the dispatchers used to patrols. It aided me in more ways than one. From what I managed to gather there was a perpetrator partaking in public indecency. The description of the person made me groan. I responded in cop lingo to the voice on the radio and turned on the car's sirens.

The fact that the dispatcher didn't suspect me at all confirmed that the two officers I'd ditched hadn't been found yet. That is not by the police at least, I had no clue as to whether or not some random hobo who happened to be a tad excitable found them or not. Part of me hoped that was the case.

I drive up to the area the dispatcher pointed me to. The individual I find can be none other than Saber. She's having an argument with some little old lady who's out past her bedtime. Something about how the elderly woman shouldn't have smacked her with a purse and how she wasn't a slut but simply allowing the world to witness her beauty. You know, the same old excuse she gave me.

The old lady responds by bonking her on the head with a cane.

I about near burst into laughter.

The only thing stopping me from doing so is the look on Saber's face that reads 'shit's about to go down grandma'.

I quickly park and turn off the car before rushing out to handle the situation. Part of me wanted to watch them duke it out. My money was on the old lady. The woman had guts.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I have to ask you to come with me." Luckily Saber immediately recognizes me.

The old lady peers at me through large tortoiseshell framed glasses and gives me a smile that reads something along the lines of 'why thank you young man'. Or at least that's what I hope it reads.

I grab Saber's wrist and pull her away before she can either protest or question me. Without hesitation she starts struggling.

"I promise I don't have cooties, and I'll explain everything once we get to the car." This seems to appease her worries and she enters the passenger side without any further problems.

Before I can start speaking she cuts me off. "What happened Praetor? Why are you wearing that uniform and driving this car?"

"I used magic."

"Magic?"

"Yup."

"Really? What type of spell could do all this?"

"Well you see, I ended up leveling up my conjuration and I put a few skill points into that branch so now I'm an expert."

Her face expresses exactly how confused she is. "You are joking I hope?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

In response I receive a glare.

"Ok I'll explain it for real now. . . ." I start the engine, turn the volume up on the car's stereo and start driving back home with the sirens and emergency lights on.

During the entire drive back she tries valiantly to express her distaste for me. I ignore her and continue accelerating through traffic. Halfway through the drive she pulls the sword out while I'm not paying attention and cuts the entire stereo in half, forever destroying my serenating music and ending the gift I was giving the world through playing it.

"WHY?!" I pull the car onto the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a collision with a crowd, and put it in park.

"What's your problem?!"

"How dare you refuse to explain what happened?!"

"I don't exactly see you explaining why you were trying to pick a fight with the elderly."

"That witch had it coming!"

I face palm at her response. "Ok, what happened is kind of an embarrassment on my part."

She tilts her head to the side in question. "Praetor, you should know that this only increases my interest."

"Ok, I get it. Basically I took the cops on thinking I was a badass. I ended up being tased and handcuffed. . . ."

"They managed to arrest you?"

"Yeah."

She breaks into a hearty laugh. It last for a moment before she stops and wipes a tear from her eye. "Praetor did you not say you could handle it?"

"Well I ended up handling it."

"What happened to 'not attacking willy-nilly'? Surely you did not kill them? Their deaths could cause nothing but trouble for us."

"No I didn't kill them. I would have shot the one guy but for whatever reason my gun didn't go off."

"I find that quite fortunate. Your lack of foresight would have increased our problems."

"Thanks for the support. The reason I ended up being apprehended was because the gun didn't go off. I'm lucky the guy didn't just shoot me."

"Well it is not like you have not had issues previously using your magic."

"I know. It's just that I managed to project a pistol and fire it while they were driving me to the station. And it's not like I haven't managed to use the guns I have before. I just can't understand why they work one moment and fail the next."

She puts a hand under her chin and enters 'The Thinker' pose. "What were the circumstances that surrounded each situation?"

"Well it failed when I took on some thugs in a pub. Kind of worked while I was dealing with Lancer. Worked when you pissed me off. Failed while I was experimenting with it. Worked in handling that insane clown. Failed at first in the fight against Berserker, but somehow started working when the CD started playing. And now it's failed in dealing with the cops."

She continues to think. "What were your thoughts and emotions during each scenario?"

"What do you mean?"

"How did you feel?"

"Well. . . I don't know. Bored during the pub fight. Almost desperate during my escape from Lancer. Angry during our argument. Neutral while experimenting. Freaked out with the clown. A tad unamused during the Berserker fight. And unimpressed with the cops."

"Wait, you said it worked with the music playing?"

"Yeah, things just started to click in my head."

"What did you feel then?"

That's when it hits me as to what she's implying. "Excited. Entertained. I was starting to enjoy myself a bit."

"You are truly an odd one Praetor." She says this with a grin on her face. "I have never met a man who would enjoy fighting a behemoth like that Berserker. Truly you are a worthy partner."

"That a weird way of saying I'm impressive?"

"Hardly, do not flatter yourself."

"Anyway, what you're getting at is that my magic is stronger during situations in which I'm emotionally involved?"

"Yes. Music also brings out your emotions. It is a rather artistic approach to battle."

"To hell with that! It's terrible. In battle it's best to avoid emotional investment. You have to act on simple instinct or else you'll lose focus and make mistakes."

"Praetor, can you really say that with a straight face? Emotions are a necessary part of being human."

"Why? They haven't done me much good."

"Clearly that is false. Your magical prowess is related directly to how you feel. Or rather if you feel anything or not."

"Maybe that's not true, there has to be other variables."

"Really? Can you think of any?"

I sit there for a moment in silence.

"That is what I assumed. You could try and pretend that is not the case. Or you could use it to improve your abilities in battle."

"I still don't believe that."

She sighs. "If that is what you wish to believe, well then so be it. It is a foolish of you, but I have long since stopped trying to find logic in your decisions."

I sit there ignoring her chastisement. She looks at me without saying anything. We sit there on the sidewalk, people staring at us, simply doing nothing.

"You know, from childhood I was raised to believe emotions were useless. I had to believe it. I would have been crushed if I didn't." I pull a cigarette out from the pack I had in the pocket of my removed pants. I light it with my cheap lighter inside the car, without caring how Saber reacts.

"Why is that Praetor? What happened to you?"

I look at her. "Same thing that happened to you. I went through hell, and I made it out. Less human then in the beginning but at least I'm alive."

Her stare is searching for something. "What do you know of who I am?"

"Not much. I saw some sort of dream while being unconscious thanks to you. Not sure how much was true or just me having one of my delusions. It was in Rome and you were there. I already knew that much." I choose not to reveal the rest of the dream. It's wrong not to but I for some reason I feel I should let her tell me herself before I intrude. Or better yet, I should just forget about it to avoid unnecessary conflict.

She mumbles something to herself. What I manage to catch sounds like "bad idea to nap".

"You're a Heroic Spirit though. It's not unusual for such a being to have a troublesome past."

She continues to look at me in question.

"Don't worry. I have no intentions of pressing the matter any farther. Best to keep the past out of the present."

This shocks her. I suppose she actually thought I would push for more information. Like I care. There was no point in knowing something that I couldn't do anything about. Or even worse, knowing something and not caring about it when you should. Ignorance is bliss.

"Let's head back." I put the car into drive.

"Praetor."

I turn to her with an eyebrow raised.

"I thank you."

I wave her off. "Don't mention it."

On the drive back I notice a familiar individual.

"Shit."

Saber looks at me in surprise. I motion towards the window. Lancer's standing on a street corner arguing with some chick. The girl has her blonde hair in a style referred here as 'twintails'. I believe that it was called either 'bunches' or 'pigtails' in America. Not really that important.

Her eyes are blue. She's wearing a tight red top with a cross on it and a black short skirt. Her shoes are long black boots.

Part of me wants to perform a drive-by on these jokers.

While I'm debating what to do Saber chooses for me. "So this is your Master! Ha! I laugh at your pathetic nature! No wonder mosquito bites are all that adorn your chest!"

I spin around gasping at Saber. Normally I'd cheer her on with this behavior, but right now the element of surprise was all we had going for us. "What the hell Saber?!"

"What? I am simply putting that fool in her place."

"In public? With people around?! After we've just dealt with cops?!"

"Frankly I cannot see your point. You attacked a clown in a crowded environment."

"She started it!"

Twintails overhears us and starts chuckling. "Berserker is this the Master you told me about?"

"Yup." The demon girl turns to me. "Hi Little Pig!"

I awkwardly wave back.

Saber slaps my hand down. "Do not encourage her."

"Ooooh looks like the princess is jealous!"

"W-w-what?! How dare you imply such a thing! And do not call me 'princess' I am a grown woman! I am going to eradicate you from existence for this!"

"Berserker huh? Strange I figured you as more of a Lancer class."

The Servant grins at me. "The only reason I'm not is because of you Piggy."

"Care to elaborate?"

Twintails steps in front of Berserker. I can only assume it's to block whatever the girl was about to say. Must have been an important piece of information.

"It's rude to interrupt." I offer the girl a piercing glare.

She returns it. Well, at least she's not a wimp.

I've parked the car on the sidewalk by now. It's completely shut off. I feel no ill will from these two.

My side of the car's directly in front of our wannabe enemies. The window's down and my arm's hanging out of the window. Berserker wanders over to Saber's side and I can tell they've already started trading insults.

Twintails speaks up. "Berserker's spoken of you, but you're not exactly what I expected. A police officer? Really?"

"I stole all this." I see no point in lying.

Twintails raises an eyebrow in question. From her expression I can clearly tell I've gained her interest. "I doubt that."

"Want me to show you the two cops bound and half-naked?"

She smirks at this. "Sure."

I return her smirk. "Sorry but I was jesting, right now I don't really have time to indulge the competition. What are you supposed to be exactly? Some schoolgirl rendition of a femme fatale? Seriously the most noteworthy thing about you is the skirt. From the way you move and your posture I can tell you have something hidden under there. My paranoia leads me to assume its weaponry, most likely some manner of knives. I'm actually hoping it's a different kind of knife. At least that way I won't have to deal with having a steel blade imbedded in my flesh. Granted you could try the same with the other knife, it just would be less effective. Plus I'd break out the rape whistle. Sadly it wouldn't be the first time." Being drunk half the time was dangerous to my health in more ways than one.

The girl starts grimacing. She balls up her fists and they start shaking in anger. I watch as she attempts to calm herself down. She sighs and then places a hand over her face, looking at me from between her spread fingers. "Maybe I was wrong to judge you so soon."

"Nice to meet you too. Name's Dante Di Prinzi. I'd prefer being referred to simply as Dante."

The girl watches me for a moment.

I offer her my hand.

She reaches out to shake it. "Rin Tohsaka."

"Pleasure's all yours I suppose."

She frowns at this. "Yes. I suppose it is."

I flash her a grin. "Lighten up buttercup. It's not like I'm supposed to kill you or anything now is it?"

She doesn't find my humor amusing. "Your jokes aren't funny and you lack tact."

"Why thank you. You certainly don't lack in the boobs category."

"W-w-what?!"

"You're either a 77 or an 82. Hmmm. . . decisions, decisions. I'm going to go with 82."

"H-h-how did you know?"

"Call it men's intuition. Not bad if I do say so myself. Saber here's an 83 but what's one number?"

At this moment Saber turns towards me. "Did you say something Praetor?"

I frantically wave my hands at her. "Nope. Nothing at all. Hey! Did Berserker just whisper that you're promiscuous?!"

Saber responds by turning back towards her rival. "How could you possibly have known that?! Do not judge me for who I am! You have no right!"

I wasn't exactly expecting that to be true. . . .

Rin's glaring at me.

"What? Is it that time of the month or something?"

"N-n-no. What is with you? What type of person are you?!"

"Certainly not a boring type. I suppose I'm whatever type I feel like being at the moment."

She stares at me with her mouth open. "What kind of response is that?!"

"Didn't you read my disclaimer sticker? Warning: Not for the faint of heart."

She sighs. Then she places her hand over her face again. Her expression becomes one of pure malice. "I pity your Servant for having to handle such a Master. Clearly you are not the courageous guy Berserker spoke of."

I yawn at her. "I think she just mistook my intentions. I wasn't being brave. I was running for my life to survive. Isn't that the point of this war? Living?"

She scowls at me. At this point I can already tell we're not going to get along very well.

"That's a greatly simplified definition of it but, yes, I suppose it is."

"Well then I guess you failed."

"Wha-?"

Before she can finish I pull out the Walther and point the barrel at her forehead.

She attempts to reach for whatever's under her skirt with one hand, while also starting the incantation for a spell.

Unfortunately for her I'm just quicker on the draw. I pull the trigger before she can truly react.

"Well shit, I guess you were right Saber."

Rin froze as soon as she thought I'd fired the gun off. Shock is evident all over her face.

I was actually a tad bit impressed that she managed to attempt some sort of resistance right until the end.

The gun doesn't go off. The round that was chambered doesn't even budge, instead the entire thing jams.

Saber's looking at me confidently. "Of course I was right. I always am." Don't get ahead of yourself blondie.

Berserker has the same shocked expression Rin has on her face.

I put the gun away. "Hey chick, you should close that mouth of yours. You'll start catching flies if you let it stay open any longer."

Rin starts scowling at me.

"2/10. Terrible troll. Next time try being a better tsundere girl. It might have actually pissed me off enough to blow your brains out."

Her scowl becomes an expression of pure fury. She looks like she's about to go off on a rant in a manner Saber would have.

I cut her off.

"Understand now kid? You're in a warzone. It's not wise to play games with the enemy. Especially when that enemy is one you tried to kill by sending a lackey to do your dirty work. If I weren't a nice guy I would still just bash your brains in with the damn gun." I glare at the girl.

She gets the message. "I. . . I. . . very much doubt that!"

I manage to show her the most evil look I'd ever given someone.

"I wasn't the one who sent Berserker after you!" She takes the smart approach.

"Oh then I suppose it was her _other_ Master. Is that how it is?"

She sighs. "Yes, actually."

I stare at the girl. "Saber. You hearing this bullshit too?"

Saber jumps in the seat next to me. I guess she wasn't paying attention. "I'll take that as a 'maybe'." I turn back towards Rin. "What type of fool do you take me for?"

She starts snickering. "Should I answer that truthfully?"

"Well you could, but then I might have to respond. And you might not like my response." I start tapping my fingers on the side of the door in impatience.

"It doesn't seem to be in my best interest to tell you anything."

"Wrong answer. Saber pull that sword out. We're going to battle right here, right now."

Saber practically jumps for joy. "Really Praetor?! That is marvelous. I can finally eliminate this pestering weakling!"

"You wouldn't dare start a fight in public!" Rin's the one who objects. Berserker looks like she's all for a battle to the death. Then again her opinion doesn't exactly count for much. When I think logic I don't think of her. Maybe lunacy. Certainly not logic.

"Sure I would. I did it when that clown chased me. I'd do it again."

Rin stares at me in confusion. "What clown?"

"Shit. I let that slip."

"Wait. . . were you the guy on the news?"

I simply stare at her.

Saber chooses this moment to speak up. Goddamn it.

"Why yes. That was my Praetor. He happens to have a ridiculous fear of clowns. As such he just so happened to snap in a public place and attack that clown in a delusional state of paranoia. Really he is an eccentric individual. At first I was not even confident he had the potential to even compete in this conflict, let alone win. With time it seems he has disproven my initial view on him."

"Why thank you Saber for sharing that information with our _enemies_. And how many times do I have to say it?! She attacked me! I didn't attack her! I just fought back. Plus screw you because at least I know how to wear actual pants!"

Saber starts up. "Praetor how dare you?! Did I not already explain to you the reason for my attire? One should not be modest with displaying their beauty."

"Actually one should. That's kind of the whole point of modesty. What're you going to say when it's your _time_ of the month? 'I decided to wear red today.'?"

Saber's face turns crimson.

I continue. "See, that shade you face is? Those tidy whities you're showing off, they're going to eventually be that shade."

"H-h-how dare you Praetor?!"

"How dare I? Well, it's simple. I always dare. That's who I am. To the phrase 'Who Dares, Wins.' I answer: 'Of course I win! I fucking dare, bitch!"

Rin looks at her Servant. The Heroic Spirit grins. "Seeeee. I told you he was the one who did it."

They're interruption causes me to pause and look in their direction. "Did what?" They exchange a glance.

Berserker looks at me and smiles. "Little Pig, you killed my previous Master."

I simply turn my head back towards Saber's direction.

"I told you attacking that goddamn clown was genius."

* * *

**I'll start this off by saying I don't condone any of Dante's actions. Just for the record. Also this is the first chapter where the title doesn't follow the same pattern the past five have. For whatever reason I couldn't for the love of me think of a word that starts with either 'p' or 'c' that would fit this chapter. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me except the OC! At this point it's become redundant, so I'll just state that and be done with it. (I'm lazy, I know.)**

* * *

**Chapter 7- An Alliance and An Armada**

Back home I was in the bathroom standing in front of the mirror. The cop's punch hadn't even caused a bruise. I couldn't tell if that was because of this strange supernatural healing or his lack of strength.

The police uniform was off, instead I was wearing a black sweater with faded blue jeans. My shoes were the only thing that contradicted my 'casual' image. Black combat boots that I had just laced up. The cuffs of the jeans were rolled down and partially concealing them. The main reason I had the boots on was because they had steel toes. I hated it when I stubbed a toe, proper protection was a necessity.

Plus right now I had two potential foes sitting downstairs chatting with Saber. A failure and I'd essentially be shooting myself in the foot. Metaphorically of course. Which was why I mentally prepared for failure in a physical sense with these ridiculous shoes. Plus I could literally kick ass with them. That's always a bonus.

I make my way downstairs, mentally preparing myself for what I'd have to deal with. Saber hadn't exactly been understanding when I suggested for Rin and Berserker to accompany us home.

In fact she'd been downright opposed to the notion.

Her opinion was based on the whole fact that Berserker had tried to kill me, how we were fighting in a conflict where you only won by killing the opponent, and how she just honestly hated Berserker as a person.

I understood where she was coming from, but I countered her with the age-old argument of 'my house my rules'. It was refreshing to utter that statement. For too long Saber had been of the opinion that she was almost the mother figure to my childlike mind. Ironic considering she acted like a spoiled brat half the time. I didn't understand why she felt that way, she just did.

The main reason I invited our opponents to come over was because of my desire to learn more about what exactly happened. From what I had briefly gathered the clown I had shot had been Berserker's old Master, and when she was her Master, Berserker had been under the Lancer class. After her supposed 'death' her contract with Berserker became null and void.

Apparently though, death wasn't as permanent as it used to be. Magic seems to work that way.

Something happened and she managed to avoid that white light at the end of the tunnel. The contract was still no longer valid though, which meant Berserker had to forge a new one with someone else. Well, she claimed she could have renewed it with her old Master but something beat her to it. That was worrisome. It meant the clown was still in the game, but now with a wild card.

Next time I'd make sure to use an anti-material rifle or some shit to make sure she didn't get back up. Of course it'd have a highly magnified scope on it. That way I wouldn't have to be anywhere near her. Psychotic clowns. I shudder at the memory of our last encounter. I had been hoping it would have been the last.

Finally downstairs I look at the three chicks in front of me.

Saber's placed a chair in the corner and is sitting in it with her arms cross, her chin pointed upwards, and her eyes closed, obviously dissatisfied with this recent turn of events.

Rin's curiously looking around the room. She's seated at the dining room table. Though she's noticeably tense, even as she attempts to appear calm.

The only one standing is Berserker. She's fiddling with my stereo. I loudly clear my throat. Berserker jumps and starts nervously chuckling.

Rin smirks at me. "Took you long enough. What were you doing in there?"

"None of your business." This causes her smirk to grow. I groan. "It's not like that."

"Suuurrreee."

Saber's the only one who doesn't react. She remains in her corner position.

"So, let's get down to why I invited you two here. I want to make an alliance."

Rin's eyes widen.

Berserker clasps her hands together and starts nodding her head with a smile on her face. "We accept, Little Pig!"

All Rin can do is gape at her.

At this moment Saber finally speaks up. She suddenly jumps out of the chair, pointing her finger at me. The volume of her outburst would wake my neighbors if I had any. "Objection!"

"Excuse me? When did this become a courtroom?"

"You know what I mean Praetor! I am against an alliance with her!" She points her finger accusingly at Berserker.

I ignore her protest and address Rin. "Do you have a safe house?"

She stares at me in confusion.

"I know who you are. It was pretty obvious. You were interviewed in a fairly popular magazine. That's not exactly subtlety."

She offers me a sheepish grin. "I got paid fairly well."

Saber butts in. "Praetor! You cannot simply ignore my objections! I am against any alliance. I do not trust them. And I will be forced to distrust your soundness of mind if you continue with this insane talk."

I look Saber right in the eye. A shit-eating grin pops up on my face. "When did I say I was sane?"

She sighs. "Praetor, this is not funny! Be serious for once."

"Ok, I'll be serious." I crack my knuckles, then proceed to pull a cigarette out of my pocket and light it. I blow a puff of smoke in Saber's direction.

"So Tohsaka you want to tell her or should I?"

Rin sighs. "You're her Master."

The next puff of smoke goes her way. She actually coughs a little bit.

"I prefer the term partner."

I focus on Saber. "Guess what Saber? We're in the presence of one of the world's biggest Resistance fighters. A nice group of terrorist they are."

Rin protests at this moment. "We're not terrorists!"

I briefly glance towards her. "I'm sorry would 'freedom fighter' make you feel better about yourself? Get over it. It's essentially the same thing. Be proud of what you are."

I turn back towards Saber. "They've been working for some time at undermining the control the Western plutocracy has over the world. Most of their attempts have been unsuccessful, might I add."

Again Rin tries to protest. I wave her off without listening to what she has to say.

"The problem you guys have is that you've been going for the complicated approach. Special updated technology. Hacking and cracking. Data mining. All of it's been useless. It's just given you the location and time of the war, you have no advantage over anyone else. Am I right?"

Rin doesn't respond.

"Tohsaka here's been in several liberation wars. Before that she was a freelance engineer in the Middle East. Pretty impressive. Saber, you know how many years of college it takes to become an engineer?" She actually tries to respond. "I'm asking it in a rhetoric sense. Rin, Saber's from Ancient Rome, I'm telling you this as a showing of good faith. And also because I would find great humor in you attempting to ask her an engineering question that she has no clue how to answer."

Saber puffs her cheeks out in displeasure.

Rin lightly chuckles.

"Here's how things stand. Even though Saber and Berserker appear to have a distaste for each other I think an alliance between our two parties could benefit us both in the long run. Of course we'd still be enemies when everyone else is dead, but until then we'd be pals."

Rin stares at me.

"What? Got something on my face?"

She covers her face with her hand. "No. I was just thinking of what possible benefits exist from an alliance."

"I have to spell them out for you? You have no safe house. That's obvious, don't even lie. From what I can figure out you're alone, barely managed to obtain a Heroic Spirit, and lack supplies."

She nervously laughs. "That's not all completely true."

I'm ruthless in my response. "Not completely true, just mostly. Your Resistance has been underwhelming. It's had little support, is outmatched, underpowered, and in danger of being crushed under the heel of a plutocratic power."

"Then what benefits could you possible gain from an alliance?"

I lick my lips.

"The answer is no."

"I WAS JOKING!"

"It's still no. And never do that again."

"It was a joke. . . ."

Saber cuts me off with a punch to the gut. As I twitch from the blow she glares into my eyes with a malicious grin on her face. "It was not funny."

I manage to just barely remain standing. "Damn. I think I'm developing a tolerance to that move. I don't know if that's good or bad."

Saber glares at me. "Should we test just how tolerant you are?"

In a panicked state I frantically wave my hands to assure her that is unnecessary.

Then I regain my composure and readdress Rin. "Well, basically I'm a simplistic man. But I love the plight of the underdog. So I'm going to take pity on you and help you out."

She blinks in confusion. "That's the most idiotic reason I've ever heard."

"I try. Just think of it like this. You have a lot of enemies. I do too. But my belief is that you can never have enough. So I'm willing to join forces just for the chance to beat the living hell out of as many people as possible. Not exactly a logical decision but who cares? The way I see it, if I can ally myself with you that means for an uncertain amount of time I don't have to worry about one Servant and one Master. I'd rather take on hundreds of weaklings then have to deal with you and Berserker right now. And I'm confident Saber could protect me from any possible danger your enemies could offer."

Saber happily beams at this. Success, I figured that appealing to her ego would win a few brownie points with her. Now all I have to do is spew some bullshit about beauty and I'll have her won over. I can already tell that Rin's going to say yes eventually.

Rin responds. "So basically, you're thinking that if we have an alliance you can handle the strength of numerous enemies all for the sake of not having to deal with two slightly more powerful ones?"

"When you say it like that I sound like an idiot."

"I'm starting to think you are."

"Gee thanks. Think of it like this then. I don't have to make sense. Our thought processes are on different levels. But, that doesn't take away all the benefits you'll get. If anything it's more of a reason for you to agree with me. I'm screwing myself over while you're profiting. See what I mean? There's no reason for me to join forces but I'm going to anyway because fuck reason."

Berserker finally decides to speak up at this point. For the past few minutes she'd been going through the contents of the kitchen. "Master I think we should accept his offer, even though it sounds too good to be true. I trust Little Pig's words." I have no idea why she does, considering our main interaction had been her chasing me as I ran for my life. "Even if he lies we can still kill him as well as the whore and win this war."

Well, that's reassuring. Maybe Saber's right about an alliance.

"Who are you referring to as a whore?!"

"Oh great there they go again." Rin's the one who speaks up.

"Tell me about it." I say it almost as a reflex.

She smiles at me. Bonding moment. It is wonderful how the idiocy of others can make people see eye to eye when normally they wouldn't.

"So what do you say?"

"I'll think about it, but it's not a 'no' just yet."

"Good enough for me. Remember this is a limited time only offer."

"Why is that?"

"Well I could be violently slaughtered within the foreseeable future thanks to completely ignoring Saber's opinion."

Rin actually laughs at this. "How would you even convince her?"

"Boyish charm."

This time she places her hand over her face and uses it to muffle her chuckles. "You are a strange man. I've never met someone so eccentric."

In response I point at her Servant.

"Besides her of course. Why are you even in this war?"

"It wasn't really a choice. I just accepted it."

She stares at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I summoned Saber on accident."

"I've never heard of that happening. I can't decide if that's impressive or pathetic."

"I'll decide for you. It's neither. Just lucky. Or unlucky depending on whether you're a 'glass half full' or a 'glass half empty' type of guy."

"Which are you?"

I smirk at her. "Who cares? It's a fucking glass. I'd just drink the rest down while some other morons argued the philosophy behind it."

She smiles at this.

I yawn. "Well today's been a long day."

Rin nods. "We'll decide on this later. Do you have a phone?"

"Sure. The number's 867-5309."

She repeats this to herself in order to remember it. Then she goes and collects Berserker. As they start to leave the Servant starts waving goodbye like a child that ingested too much sugar. I respond with a Serbian salute. Saber responds with an 'hmph' while crossing her arms and looking away.

With our so-called 'guests' gone the tension in the room lightens up considerably.

Saber utters a long sigh before falling into a chair. "Praetor, why did you give them a means of contacting us?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"You gave that girl your phone number."

"Oh, that wasn't my phone number."

Saber's tilts her head in confusion. "Then who. . . ?"

"Jenny's."

Saber immediately jumps out of the chair. This sudden change almost causes me to fall down in surprise. "WHO IS THIS JENNY?!"

"Holy shit! Why are you yelling?!"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

"It's a song!"

This calms her down. "What?"

"A song. About a guy finding a random chick's number on the wall of a bathroom stall. The song's name comes from her phone number."

She blinks at me. "Praetor, if you are going to lie, you should try to make it more convincing."

"I swear. Look, listen to it. I have to make a call." I turn the stereo on and select the song in question. Then I walk outside without waiting for Saber to respond.

I make my way quickly to the convenience store I buy cigarettes from. It's one of the only places around that still has a pay phone. The owner greets me with a grunt. I quickly make my way to the phone, insert the coins into the machine and dial the number.

The guy on the other end picks up on the first ring. "It's been a while Dante."

"I suppose you could say that. We don't have to use the secret password this time?"

"When was there ever a password?"

"You just have to spoil my fun. Gonzou still a dick?"

"You know I can't answer that. He's the boss."

"Funny, that's the first time you actually acknowledged that fact."

"What do you want?"

"I ended up 'borrowing' a police car. You guys able to do anything with it?"

"What do you mean 'borrowing'?"

"You know I can't answer that."

"What's the make and model?"

"It's a shitty Nissan. No shielding between the driver and the backseat. Probably from the 90s. Look I don't want it. You guys know you could do some scam with it. Just take it."

"Ok Dante, where can we find it?"

"I dropped it off in the usual place."

"What about the cops that were with it?"

"Last I saw them they were in an alley. Not sure what happened since then."

"No funny business?"

"Nope, I just have no use for a cop car."

"We're a legitimate business. Remember that."

"Sure."

"You'll find the usual payment in your account."

"I said I don't-"

The line cuts off.

"Dammit."

The owner glances at me in an uncharacteristic display of interest.

"You know how women are."

The guy just nods with his eyes closed in contemplation. I leave the store and start making my way back home. The entire walk back I feel something's off.

"Well, looks like I've managed to draw some attention to myself. Pity, it's been going so well."

Two figures step out from a side street.

"Shinji this is stupid. I'm charging you double for making me go through this."

"Shut it Rider, I'll pay whatever you want just listen to me!"

The first voice came from a tallish woman. She has long wavy pink hair and her eyes are blue. The most prominent thing about her is the large scar across her face. That and the fact that she's wearing a choker collar. For whatever reason. It's almost connected to the dark pink vest sort of attire she's wearing. The vest shows off her breasts. For whatever reason. Her pants are white and the boots she wears are brown. Overall she reminds me of an 'actress' you'd see in a pirate 'flick' 'performing'. By that I mean, well, she's not exactly. . . shy.

The other voice belongs to small boy. The kid has blue hair. For whatever reason. His eyes are also blue. He's wearing a light purple short-sleeved buttoned up shirt with white shorts for pants. A laptop is cradled under his arm.

"What the hell is this? More clowns? I hate clowns." I glare at the two. The boy flinches. Ha ha I win. The lady starts smirking at me.

"Sorry guys I don't have any spare change. But ma'am I'm sure the local strip club will hire you. That way you can pay for your kid's food."

The smirk turns to a look of fury. The boy stares at me in confusion. I'm half expecting him to ask 'what's a strip club?' His confusion quickly turns to the same anger the lady's showing. Probably in an attempt to appear intimidating.

"Are you mocking me?!"

I look over my shoulder. No one's there. Then I point at my chest and mouth the question 'you talking to me?'

"Of course I'm talking to you! You moron!"

"Woah, woah, woah. That's a harsh word. Didn't mommy here tell you to watch your language you little shit?" The kid looks like he's about to throw a tantrum. "Shut up kid. What do you two idiots want?"

"Watch who you're talking to." The one referred to as Rider says this. I can only assume she's a Servant with how she's dressed and all. That or a really cheap hooker. And one who likes younger men to boot.

"Why do I have to watch you? Shouldn't you be the one listening to me?"

The chick looks like she's about to blow a gasket.

"Calm down lady. I'm only kidding, of course I find you to be deeply attractive, so attractive that I'm insecure about handling this conversation. You see it's a defense mechanism, it really is, when I see a beautiful woman I just can't help but mock them a bit. It's all in good nature really, just a bit of teasing that's all. At least that's what my therapist says."

This seems to take the Servant off guard for a moment. She flashes me a grin and then looks towards the kid. "Shinji this one might be more than meets the eye. I take back what I said about you being a complete moronic brat for making me show up."

"Aw shucks I'm touched. Let's ditch the kid and go have some fun."

The lady looks at me with a smirk. "Normally I'd take you up on that offer but the unfortunate relationship I have with my Master right now forces me to decline."

"Well shit, it's ok though, I'd rather not get herpes for a few more years."

The smirk turns towards a mischievous grin. "I've never been tested. Think of it as handling a loaded gun."

Was that a joke?

"I could do so much with that I'm not even going to try. Forget it. You-"

I point at the kid. "What do you want? I'm not buying any Girl Scout cookies."

He starts turning red. "I wanted to tell you that I'm the greatest Master in this war and that I'm going to wipe the floor with you!"

"What makes you think I'm a Master?"

Rider speaks up. "Shinji here has made me follow you and your Servant around for the past few days. It's been a real annoyance."

"Like the view?"

"Saber's rear was rather pleasant to watch."

"Kid you could learn a thing or two from this lady, a sharp tongue can save you."

"I don't need to hear this from you!"

"Well then hear it from her. Or hear it from this."

I project the derringer.

Before I can fire it at the kid the gun goes flying. I look to see Rider aiming a flintlock pistol at me, the barrel still smoking.

"Much as I'd enjoy you shutting that kid up, I can't really let you kill my Master that easily."

"Damn you're fast."

She smirks. "I try."

"So what now? I'm guessing you have at least one more of those with that pirate garb you got on. You gonna shoot me?"

"Maybe." She says this while biting her lip.

"How about we split the treasure fifty/fifty?"

"Can't do that. I already have to split it with this brat."

"Why not just cut out the middle man?"

"He's my Master."

"Well, I could be your Master?"

She stares at me in shock. Then she regains her composure. "What do you have to offer?"

"Rider you can't be serious?! I forbid you from betraying me! I won't-"

A death glare silences Shinji.

"Well for one I'm potty trained." This gets a chuckle. "Plus I'm fairly certain I have more wealth than the kid. I could pay you handsomely."

She ponders this for a moment. My hands are in my pockets. Her first gun is lowered, but a second one is trained on me. "The kid made a lot of cash recently."

"How so?"

Shinji speaks up at this point. "I'm the gaming champion of Asia!"

"Wait, you don't happen to be Shinji Matou do you?"

"You better believe I am!"

"The competition must have been terrible at the game."

"Why you-!"

"Shut up Shinji."

"How about we just go our separate ways? You guys can go get killed by some random nobody and I'll just continue going on my merry way."

"No." They both say it at the same time.

"Rider is it? You're a pirate right? Or am I just imaging the resemblance?"

"Some would have called me such."

"Mind telling me who you are before you kill me?

She looks to Shinji, the brat has a smug grin on his face. He nods to her. "I am Temeroso El Draque!"

I stare at her. "Why'd you say that in Spanish?"

She stares at me.

"I mean, if you were going to do that why didn't you say 'soy Temeroso El Draque' instead of 'I am'?"

She continues looking at me. "It's my title."

"Well then why didn't you say it all in Spanish? Most of it was in Spanish anyway. Did you not know 'I am' in Spanish? Do you even know what 'Temeroso El Draque' means in Spanish?"

"Yes. It's my title."

"You have no goddamn clue."

"Rider just hurry up and kill him!"

"Shut up kid. Your balls have to drop before you can be taken seriously."

Rider breaks out into laughter. "I envy your Servant!"

"If only she felt the same way. You sure I can't just kill him? I mean it'd be beneficial to both of us in the long run. You really want to continue having to listen to him?"

"You'd shoot an innocent unarmed child?"

"Innocent, no. Unarmed, yes. Child, debatable. I think in the context of this, I would be justified because he just said for you to 'hurry up and kill him' that 'him' being me. So if it's him or me. I'd rather have me."

"Understandable."

"Rider you're not supposed to agree with him!"

"Shut up Shinji."

"Can we just forget this meeting ever happened, and just go home?"

"No." Again it's in unison.

"Alright then, I suppose it's fair. Not like I could ever forget your face beautiful." I address this to Rider in the hopes of buttering her up.

She chuckles. "You have a way with words."

"Thanks. Is that still a no?"

"Yes it is."

"Well then you leave me no choice." I pull my hands out of my pockets. Instantly a derringer pops up in each of my palms. I fire all four shots. Luckily the brat has me riled up with that 'moron' comment.

Rider fires her pistol. Two of my shots impact with her shot. The other two head towards Shinji but are stopped by a second round.

"Well, I should have known you didn't use conventional ammunition. That would have been too easy."

"They run on mana."

"Fair enough."

"Your accuracy isn't half bad."

"I try."

We stand there, Mexican standoff style.

"What the hell am I doing?" I say this mostly to myself. Rider stares at me in confusion. The derringers disappear. "Clearly I'm at a disadvantage. Even though your Master is pitiful you're still a Heroic Spirit. I can't match you. I'm just going to run away." With my intentions proclaimed I turn tail and run.

It confuses Rider. "I didn't figure him for a coward."

After a few steps I abruptly jump, turning to face them. "Get turned on!" The Smith &amp; Wesson revolvers are now in each hand.

I fire all ten of my shots. Rider ends up countering all of them.

"But I even said a cool catchphrase."

"That wasn't very cool."

"Yeah it was kind of lame."

"Shut up Shinji."

"No! You shut up Rider! I'm your Master you do as you're told!"

"Kid, I'm only here because I'm being paid."

"I'm still in charge."

"Not really."

"You listen to me!"

"Money talks, you don't."

They start arguing so I start tiptoeing away. After I make it a few meters I break out into a full on sprint. I'm back home within a couple of minutes.

"SABER!"

She's not downstairs, I charge up the stairs and start checking around. I find her in my bedroom. She's in my bed. Dressed in a pair of pajamas I'd never seen before. She has my laptop in front of her.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

I receive a confused look. "What?"

"WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LAPTOP?!"

"I wanted to try a 'stream'."

I exhale in relief. "Wait…what? Why the hell are you…just, never mind."

Looking around I notice that she has a microphone and camera plugged into it as well. They look kind of expensive…

"Where did you get those?"

"I bought them."

"Using what?"

"Your credit card."

"I'LL KILL. . . !"

Before I can finish I receive a swift punch to the abdomen. "WHY DID I COME TO YOU FOR HELP?!" I fall into a chair.

"Praetor, you have not cooked anything for days. This upsets me."

I mumble something along the lines of 'do it yourself.' Just with a lot more profanity.

She closes the laptop and gets up. In an instant she's changed back into her usual red dress. "You interrupted my livestream Praetor."

"Ok?"

"That was rude of you. How will my fans enjoy my beauty now?!"

"I guess they'll just have to wait." We stare at each other.

She sighs. "What do you want Praetor?"

"Well I just wanted to let you know that I met Rider and her Master and they kind of tried to kill me, plus they might have followed me so-"

"SAY NO MORE!" Saber grabs my arm and pulls me along behind her.

"WAIT!"

She rushes down the stairs, dragging me along like a puppet with its strings cut. I smack my face on the steps as we go down. We rush outside, my face dragging along the concrete pavement.

"WHY?! JOE PESCI WHY?!"

Saber stops for a moment. "Praetor, are you still worshipping that man? You should cease that. Instead worship me for I am perfection itself and-"

"YOU WEREN'T IN THE GOODFELLAS SO SHUT UP!"

Her eye twitches in anger.

"Oh no. Saber, I didn't mean it. Don't do anything we'll both regret. I know you won't-"

She grabs my arm again and continues dragging me along. During our travel my face impacts with more than a few lampposts, trashcans, stop signs, etc.

By the time we've stopped I'm certain I have a concussion. Or permanent brain damage.

"S-s-sa-sa-ber."

"Yes Praetor?"

"W-w-wh-where are we?"

"I do not know."

I jump up in anger. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW?!"

"I simply ran through the streets dragging you behind me. You never said where our opponents were."

"Why didn't you stop?!"

"When your head impacted something it made the most melodious sound."

"You're pure evil. That's it I'm out. Peace." I start limping away.

"Praetor, where are you going?"

"A ditch. So I can just go die in peace."

"Praetor, I find it unlikely that you will die."

"A boy can dream can't he?!"

"Praetor, you are being overdramatic."

"That's pretty ironic!"

"Praetor."

"What?!" I spin around facing her.

"What is your Wi-Fi password?" We stand there staring at each other for a moment.

"Wat."

"Your Wi-Fi password. The Grail informed me that I would need it if I wished to livestream."

"I don't know how to respond to this."

"Well, you could do your duty as my Praetor, and tell me your password."

"I'm not sure what it is."

"That is unfortunate."

"But I know the number you can call to find out what it is."

"What is this number, Praetor?"

"Ok. You're going to remember it?" She nods her head in the positive. "1-800-GOFUCKYOURSELF!"

"That seems like something too long to be a phone number."

"You know what?"

"What, Praetor?"

"I've decided I need to just relax a bit more." I light a cigarette and start smoking. "So here's how this is going to go down. You're going to stop whatever it is you've been doing for the past while. And in return I'm going to go shoot that brat who called me a moron. Then you're going to agree with me about forming an alliance with Rin and Berserker. And in return I'll tell you the Wi-Fi password."

"That seems like hardly a fair trade."

"Well, then think of it like this. Wouldn't it be downright glorious of you to allow an enemy like Berserker to bask in your beauty? Now what would be the best way of doing this? Keeping her really close. That way she will always be reminded about how beautiful you are and how ugly she is. Doesn't that seem wonderful?"

She closes her eyes. I can only imagine she's picturing the scene unfolding. Then she starts nodding her head with a smile on her face. "Yes, I suppose you are right. That would be wonderful."

"Glad you could see it my way."

"But I forbid you from being around either of them without me in the vicinity."

"Wat."

"You heard me Praetor, I will only allow for such an alliance if I am to be at your side at all times. Including at night." She winks. Like an actual wink. Not a fake one. No, an actual wink.

"You got something in your eye?"

She stares at me. "Praetor."

"What?"

"I worry about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" The look she gives me is full of pity. "What'd I do?!"

"Oh, nothing Praetor. Let us just find this Master and Servant pair and defeat them. My favorite show comes on in half an hour."

"Why is that a priority?"

"Why would it not be?"

"Touché." I start walking off.

"Praetor, where are you going?"

"I told you I was going to shoot that kid."

"But Praetor, is that no a bit extreme?"

"Nah, worst case scenario and things become Mature."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what? Forget it. You going to help or not?"

"Of course, after this though, you are going to make me something to eat."

"Pasta?"

"No. Something else."

"Uh. . . that's basically the only thing I know how to cook."

She stares at me like I'm insane. "Praetor, you disappoint me."

"I can make you a TV dinner?"

"Wait. What is that?"

I smile inwardly. It seems she's forgotten her purge of my pantry. The irony in feeding her food she had deemed unworthy was too sweet to decline.

After all, as the saying goes, 'revenge is a dish best served cold'.

"A TV dinner?" She nods furiously. "Well. It's food. That is frozen. And you microwave it. And it becomes unfrozen."

"What manner of magic is this?"

"Uh. . . radiation?"

"Fascinating."

"Let's just go and defeat the enemy."

"Yes, let us show them our beauty."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Let's just kill them and get this over with."

"Praetor that is a depressing way to word it."

"It's just the truth. Let's go."

* * *

Retracing my steps I end up on the street I last encountered them.

They're still arguing. "Well, you guys made it easy."

This causes them to turn towards me. Rider notices Saber. "Shit."

"So you are the ones who threatened my Praetor while I was gone? Praetor, I see nothing impressive about these two. Are you positive you cannot handle them by yourself?"

"Ha ha. Saber let's just take them out of the picture and move on."

"Praetor, I believe you should be more excited. This is a battle after all. The curtains are raising. It is time to perform."

"Yeah. . . you do that. I'll just be over here providing support. That cool? Cool." I take a seat on the pavement.

"Praetor, that is somewhat lazy of you."

"Blame yourself, I'm tired after having my body dragged around town."

"I hate to break up this cheery exchange, but we are about to fight aren't we?" Rider's the one who says this.

Saber nods. "Of course, you need not wait much longer before I show you my beauty."

"Yo, Saber. She's a pirate. Specifically Sir Francis Drake. British dude, but for whatever reason he's a she right now. And on a comedic note he/she died of dysentery. Basically diarrhea was too strong for her. What a way to go."

Saber starts to chuckle at this. "Dysentery? You could not hold your bowels?"

This causes Rider to get a bit upset. "Listen here Saber! Mocking me will get you nowhere, this battle will be over before it can even begin! Remember my name by the death from my passing! Temeroso el Draque! I am the woman who set the sun! You rascals, it's time! The king of storms, a swarm of ghosts, this is the beginning of the Wild Hunt!" Several ships start materializing out of nowhere. There sails almost blot out the sky.

"Ha ha ha! You loser! You really thought you stood a chance against my Rider?! You're pathetic! And so is that useless excuse for a Servant you have! After I beat you I'll kill the rest of the competition and win the-"

That's just enough to piss me off. Two small darts go right into the kid's chest. Followed by several hundred thousand volts.

"Shut the fuck up. I hate kids."

His eyes go wide as he shakes from the voltage. "But. . . but. . . I can't lose!"

"You just did, you pissed me off, you insulted me, you threatened me, but to top it off you called my partner pathetic. Get over yourself."

The kid collapses. Rider's shocked. She looks at her Master. Saber's equally surprised. I'm still sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Praetor, you shot a child!"

"He's not going to die. I used a Taser. Not a pistol. I just wanted him to shut up."

I was lucky the thing counted as a 'gun'. Wonder how many loopholes my power had?

Rider regains her composure. The cannons turn.

"Saber. I hate to interrupt your moment, but I suggest you move back a bit. After she's done with this artillery crap you can take the fight to her."

She looks at me. "What about you-?"

"I'm fine." The cannons let loose a barrage of fire. "Hey! Rider! Thanks for showing me your trick!"

Rider glares at me. Then she notices what I'm referring to. Dozens of emplaced cannons are lined up behind me. I've assembled my own artillery.

A second barrage of cannon fire lets loose from over my shoulder. The sky lights up with the result. Our duet of bombardment resounds through the streets. In an uncharacteristic moment of patriotism I start humming the 'Star-Spangled Banner'. The part where it mentions 'the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air' really went well with the manner of war I was waging. Cannonballs collide and ricochet off one another. A few even land behind me. Fortunately none actually make contact with me.

"If it's a gun. I can make it. No matter what type. No matter how old. The second you show it off like a prized toy, I take it."

Rider stares at me dumbfounded. "What are you?"

"Just your average moron. I don't have much to my name. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very short period of time. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. The moment you decided not to use the focused on range you were completely useless. You could still outmatch me if I was by myself but with Saber at my side you're done for. Saber."

I turn towards her. "I'll protect you from any cannon fire. Merc this bitch."

Saber nods. "Gladly, Praetor." Rider's cannons let loose another volley. My projected copies return fire. They're practically the same.

Saber charges upwards, straight at Rider. Her speed is unmatched. The only reason I can even see her is because of how I'd been trained to keep track of moving targets since I was young. It was a necessity when one was trying to accurately snipe a target. Even with that training I had to focus my sight as much as possible with the speed she was traveling. Usain Bolt, eat your heart out.

Rider attempts one last volley of cannon fire. I return fire. The result is a draw, just like the previous two engagements.

Saber uses a lamp post to launch herself at the ship. She boards the ship Rider's on with relative ease.

"It's not very nice to ride a ship free of charge!" Rider shouts this at Saber.

She draws her flintlock pistols and starts shots off rapidly. Saber blocks it all with her sword.

"It is my Imperial Privilege. Consider me special."

From the sound of things I can tell Rider's desperate. She starts shouting about how she's going to go out with a bang. I'm not buying it. Neither is Saber if I can tell anything by the way she responds. Basically it's the reply I'd receive if I said such a thing. Albeit a bit colder. All about how logic and rational thinking weren't being used, blah blah blah.

This battle's nearing the end.

I light a cigarette.

Saber's blade comes straight down.

Rider's left hand receives a large gash. She drops the pistol in it. On a normal human that blow would have been an amputation.

A cloud of smoke leaves my mouth.

Saber jabs the sword straight at Rider. It thrusts right through her. Talk about penetration.

The battle's over.

The ships are gone. Rider's lying on the ground, bleeding out, next to Shinji.

"What's this? Seems I'm all burned out." She manages to force those words out before starting to disappear. Shinji's still out cold. With a closer inspection I notice that he'd pissed himself. Kid should have worn diapers. "Get this brat to safety ok? You know, that was impressive kid. I wasn't expecting that."

She winks at me. Then she vanishes.

I get up.

The cannons are gone.

I drop the cigarette on the ground and crush it underneath my shoe.

"Let's get the kid to a hospital Saber."

She nods.

After dropping the kid off at the doors of the emergency room, at the same hospital we were previously today, Saber and I retire at home.

"Praetor that escalated rather quickly."

"I suppose it did. At least we got one candidate out of the running."

"That battle was hardly enjoyable."

"Yeah, it was kind of lame. Really I just wanted to get rid of those two as soon as possible. I hate it when people try to pull the 'sneaky' approach and pop up when I'm not expecting them."

Saber gives a mischievous grin at this. "I will remember that for the future."

"Don't even start. What do you want to eat?"

She thinks for a moment. "Those TV dinners, are they decent?"

"Not really."

"Then why do they share the name of the great and powerful television?"

"They used to be perfect for fitting on something that was called a TV-tray table back in the 1950s. You'd eat them while watching the television that was placed on the table as well."

"That is a rather boring reason for naming such a thing."

"Yeah it is. Here I'll make you one and you can judge it for what it is. Then let's get cleaned up and go to bed. It's been a while since I got a decent night's rest."

"It shall be an enjoyable night! I reserve the left side of the bed, you may have the right."

"Ha ha. No."

* * *

**Well here's another one! Let me know what you guys think about the fight scene. I felt it might have been a tad bit rushed but I kind of just wanted to get it done and out of the way instead of delaying it for another chapter. Might have been a bad call on my part. Thanks for reading! -SB**

**P.S. I actually edited a bit of the battle scene, a lot of the additions are thanks to King Keith. Let me know if it's any better, I still feel like I can add something but maybe I'm just overthinking.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Type-Moon owns Fate. 'Type-Moon' also has three vowels in it. There are three angles to a triangle. The 'All Seeing Eye' is triangular. The Illuminati uses it to symbolize their organization. Therefore Type-Moon is the Illuminati, and the Illuminati controls Fate. Unless we're going to count 'y' as a vowel and then my entire conspiracy theory is ruined. Ignore that trivial fact! Get your tin foil hats brethren!**

* * *

**Chapter 8- Break Ups and Bad Trips **

Everything was difficult at this point.

Something as simple as putting a TV dinner into the microwave took every fiber of my being to actually do. The walk back home had been agonizing.

I had tried my hardest to appear fine in front of Saber. She didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

This wasn't the first time I'd faced conditions of extreme exhaustion, at one point I'd been forced to stay awake for as long as possible. I'd lasted three days before I passed out. Halfway through the third day I'd started hallucinating. What I felt now though was rivaling that exhaustion. It even rivaled how I felt after running from Lancer/Berserker and getting impaled.

I felt as if I was on fire. Every nerve in my body was burning. The act of walking, of moving, was difficult. My head felt as if it was splitting open. Almost as if I'd been hit by an icepick. So this is what Trotsky felt like. It was way worse than being hit by a bottle. Talking was strange, it felt as if when I spoke I was speaking in third-person. As if I wasn't attached to my body.

I had to excuse myself and get away from Saber as soon as possible. I left her to try the TV dinner and rushed to the bathroom. Halfway up the stairs I started to feel nauseous. I dashed to the toilet room and vomited.

In the bathroom I looked in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot. My vision started to become blurry, almost as if I was looking through a pair of glasses that were the wrong prescription. The aching in my head intensified and I became unbalanced, practically falling to the ground. I managed to position myself on hands and knees.

Under the sink I kept a secret stash of alcohol. I'd started to hide a few bottles here and there after Saber had shown her displeasure at my constant drunkenness. Some were still in the fridge, but nowhere near as many as I used to have. In my opinion, her criticism was hypocritical considering she'd lived in Rome. Though I understood she was concerned about my performance in battle. I still argued I was better off drunk, but she didn't buy it. The stash this time was a bottle of vodka. I was barely able to get the top off the bottle.

For whatever reason my condition was worsening. I started coughing, drops of blood came up. "What the hell is happening to me?" I managed to get the bottle up to my mouth and started gulping it down. The alcohol numbed me and lessened the pain but it did nothing for the other symptoms. I tried to cast a healing spell to improve my condition. I started to panic when I discovered I couldn't tap into my prana. "What the fuck?!" Even the stored prana was lost to me. I couldn't even find it in my body, let alone access it. Magic was lost to me. "Shit!"

"Praetor, is something wrong?" Saber's voice reached me from downstairs.

I must have been too loud. I grabbed the bottle of vodka and started chugging the rest of it down. Probably the worst thing I could have done. Within a few moments I felt like my stomach was trying to escape my body. I ended up evacuating its contents into the sink. It was difficult to even kneel. I tried to get back on two legs, my knees buckled and I collapsed into a pile.

"Praetor?"

"I'm ok!" My voice comes out raspy and weak. What I intended to be a shout comes out almost as a whisper.

Saber shouts something in a worried tone. I can't even hear what she says. My hearing's failing as well. Everything's deteriorating. Is this what death feels like? My breathing's becoming labored and I'm starting to lose feeling in my hands and feet. At first I panic. Like any normal human being. But after a second or two I calm down. There's got to be a way to get out of this state.

I fumble around searching for the bottle. It's near impossible without any sensation of touch. My sights starting to fail me too so I resort to sprawling out on the ground and sniffing the air. For whatever reason my sense of smell's the only one that hasn't started to fail. Besides taste of course, unfortunately since the taste of vomit is still in my mouth. I'm like a bloodhound when it comes to booze. The scent of alcohol hits me from all around the room, but one area just happens to be a bit stronger than the others.

I start flailing my hand in that direction trying to grab onto something. I can't even tell if I'm closing my hand or opening it. Awkward seconds pass in silence. By chance my hand happens to hit the bottle towards me. It rolls into the side of my head, one of the few areas I can still sense touch. I turn my head towards it. My limited vision makes out the bottle's outline. Then it makes out the shape of my hand grasping for the bottle and connecting with it.

I grab the bottle and smash the bottom of it on the tile floor next to me. A shard of glass hits my cheek. For a moment the sensation of pain reaches my brain. The coldness in my body starts to dissipate ever so slightly.

I take the remainder of the bottle, holding onto it by the neck, the end displays a menacing set of glass teeth. For a moment I hesitate.

I'm unsure as to which location would be the best target.

That and my body's rebelling against taking this course of action even though my mind's made up that this extreme is the necessary choice.

I settle for my left shoulder. The teeth find their mark, breaking through my skin and drawing blood. A muffled groan leaves my mouth. I clench my mouth shut. I pull the teeth out, a few break off and I can only assume they're still imbedded in my body.

For good measure I jab the bottle into my right thigh as well. Again it draws blood from its victim.

At this point adrenaline start flowing throughout my body in copious amounts. My heart starts pumping faster. The pain focuses my mind. The fog that had clouded my vision starts to lessen. My hearing no longer remains in a state similar to what it would be if I had been underwater. I start to feel the pain so I understand my feeling of touch hasn't completely left me.

I'm still in no better of a situation as I was before. A fit of coughing returns to me and blood comes forth. I'm unsure as to whether or not I may have internal bleeding. It hits me that this must all be a result from overexerting myself in the battle against Rider.

I jab my finger into the wound on my shoulder and start wiggling it around. The increase of stress and pain furthers my understanding of exactly what the situation is. It starts angering me when I realize I could die from the aftermath of a victory in battle.

I force myself to access the prana supply inside me. Doing so practically tears my magic circuits apart. I can feel myself weaken from the pain instead of being enforced by it. It managed to stir me from the stupor of exhaustion, almost like pinching someone to wake them, but I'm still straddling a thin line between life and death.

The trigger in my head goes off. It signals my ability to use magic. I start healing myself on a basic level. It's still not enough to stabilize myself. I can feel myself heal ever so slightly separate from my intervention. So this must be how I managed to survive all those other near death situations. But the rate its going isn't fast enough to save me. I start repairing my magic circuits and manage to force myself into a kneeling position. The door flies open.

"Praetor?!" Saber's standing there, shock on her face, sword in hand pointing in my direction. The sword vanishes and she rushes to me. I suppose I didn't notice her voice over the desperate attempts I'd employed to save myself. She starts asking me what's wrong. I continue to heal myself without answering her. She grasps onto me, forces my eyes to make contact with hers and starts asking again. I offer a small smile to her. Then I pass out.

When Praetor feel into an unconscious state I first assumed him to be dead. After quelling my panic I managed to check him over. He was still breathing, though it was shallow. I had no idea as to what I should do. What I decided was to first move him into somewhere more comfortable.

I placed him in his bed. While doing so I practically dropped him at one point. My head screamed in pain. A migraine larger than usual started. It was a result of poison my mother had used on me as a child. All in order for her to consolidate her power over me. For the past few days these moments of pain had come in fewer and fewer increments. When they did occur I hid them well enough that Praetor remained unsuspecting. I had no idea as to what was happening to him, so it seemed he had done something similar to me in hiding it.

Though his condition was worse than mine could ever be from a migraine. It impressed me to an extent that he had been a decent enough actor to fool me. The aching in my head was terrible. It was the highest level of pain I had felt since my summoning. I could only conclude it was a result of the stressful nature of the current scenario.

At first I had assumed Praetor was attempting to commit suicide. The broken bottle and wounds led me to that idea. Panic had set in my mind, flashbacks of when my sole mentor, the philosopher, Seneca killed himself in my home. All because he disbelieved my words of forgiveness.

The thought of Praetor dying in such a manner not only scared me but confused me. At first I assumed he had started to feel the same feelings of those who denounced me. My initial assumption was that he somehow managed to deduce my identity and had attempted suicide out of either shame or fear.

The pain of these thoughts in combination with the migraine caused me a great deal of suffering in the moments following my attempt to relocate Praetor in a more comfortable place. I sat there unsure of what to do. For once I was incapable of acting. He had started to heal himself though, surely that meant he was not attempting suicide? Furthermore who would use a broken bottle in a suicide attempt? It seemed inefficient, granted Praetor was strange but such a decision seemed unlike him.

I remained rooted to the spot confused and undecided as to what I should do. The only thought that came to me was the need for some sort of doctor to aid him. I doubted the wisdom in looking towards the hospital for assistance, involving the authorities could result in his arrest. The only option I could think of made me cringe. It would involve me leaving him alone.

I did not want to abandon him, and I dreaded the involvement of those two. It seemed like the only option though, the condition Praetor was in did not seem to be improving. Even when he was impaled the wound itself had healed over within the first few moments to an extent. At the time of that incident he had fallen asleep in a peaceful state. Now his features were clouded with anxiety.

I had no idea as to whether or not he was in pain. I actually felt a bit of concern for his wellbeing. That left me only one option.

"Praetor, you are going to owe me for this. I am going to want two things instead of just the one you promised me before."

Dreamland for me once more. Everything was dark.

Then the repetitive flashes of '666' continued just last time.

'The numbers Mason. What do they mean?!'

Am I transitioning to Satanism? Is some big bad red dude with hooves and horns coming for me? Did I die and is this my trip to Hell? What the fuck is this?

Flashes of red start cutting through the darkness. Almost like a strobe light, or a flare. My head started killing me. Strange considering I was kind of in my head now.

The scene shifted and I was back in that antiquated city. It was the same one from last time, when I'd seen Saber in my dreams. Speak of the devil. Here she was again, but this time she appeared happier. She was handing money out to a crowd of citizens. They cheered her on. The smile she returned made me pity the girl. She clearly had no idea as to where the nature of this praise came from. They loved her for the money not for her. Giving money out like this was just bribing the citizens to accept you.

The scene shifted, now I was in some type of building. It appeared to be someone's home. The room was dark. A figure kneeled in front of me. Walking closer, my eyesight adapted to the surroundings and I noticed it was a woman. Her arms were sprawled out. Her head was bowed. On closer inspection I discovered her wrists were slit. A quick check found no pulse to speak of. She was long dead. Suicide seemed the most likely candidate.

"Octavia?" A quiet voice came from somewhere in front of me. "Why?" I looked up. The voice came from a blonde girl. It took me a moment to register that this girl was Saber.

"Back to this shit again." Saber doesn't hear my response. The woman's eyes were slightly open. She probably left this world before her eyelids fully closed. With a quick motion of the hand they were shut. "Requiescat in pace."

Saber stood in front of me, still in shock from the sight in front of her. I could tell that she didn't see me. Once again I was a casual member of the audience.

A quick shift in scenery and I'm staring at a similar sight. This time it's a man. Same 'modus operandi'. Slit wrists that seemed to be from a successful suicide attempt. What's with these Romans?

"S-S-Seneca?" Saber's there again. Staring at the scene. "You too? Why didn't you believe me? I forgive you." Her voice isn't as quiet as it had previously been. But it's just as torn.

Another abrupt scene shift. I'm going to have a seizure if this keeps on happening. It's like goddamn LSD Dream Emulator. But less randomness.

Now I'm looking at Saber. She's standing there, holding a knife. Tears are in her eyes. "How can such a magnificent artist disappear from this world?" She just had to go and say something like that. It just ruined her chances of getting much pity from me. "Hark, now strikes on my ear the trampling of swift-footed coursers!" Was that from The Iliad? She raises the blade.

"S-S-Saber put it down!" I take a step towards her, but I'm too late. Not that I could do much anyway.

The knife's edge slices a gash across her throat.

Well shit, that was brutal.

She falls to the ground. I can't even make it in time to catch her. So I just stand there staring in confusion. The door to the room we're in starts being banged against. "Emperor! Open the door!" A man's voice comes from the other side. A few more moments of banging without any answer. Then the door slams open. The guy kicked it in. "Emperor Nero!" Nero! What?! The man, who judging by his armor appears to be a soldier, rushes to Saber and gently wraps his cloak around her.

Her last words leave her mouth. "Too late. This is fidelity." She dies. Then everything fades away.

"So. Nero? Well. That's interesting. Not exactly what I was expecting. Julius Caesar would have been a bit more entertaining, but perhaps he was too obvious a choice. Least she's not a female version of that sonofabitch Commodus. I'd have to go all Russell Crowe on her ass if that was the case."

"HOLY SHIT I FEEL LIKE I'M ON FIRE!"

I jump out of the bed. . . .

"WHY WAS I IN BED?!"

"Shut up you moron!" A slap hits me across the face. Rubbing my cheek I glance at the person who threw the blow.

"Rin. Why are you in my house?"

"Have some respect, you fool! I didn't say you could call me by my first name!"

"Would you prefer Tohsaka-kun?"

She starts bristling with anger. "You know that's not the right honorific."

"Really? I thought you were a little boy?" Another slap. Followed by a punch. Jeez she has a strong arm. "Stop assaulting me in my own home!"

"Very well then Praetor. I suppose I shall be the one to assault you." A punch hits me in the lower back. I crumple on the floor in agony.

"What the fuck did I do to deserve this?!"

"Tohsaka tells me that the reason you were in your previous state is because you are an imbecile."

"What'd I do?!" Rin looks at me with a look that says 'I know you didn't just ask that'.

"The whole part where you overexerted your capabilities in magic and almost ended your life from the sheer strain such an act entailed?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"You're a moron."

"Love you too."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Saber wouldn't agree with that."

"Praetor, I believe Rin is in the right."

"Where's Berserker? She'll back me up."

"Her vote doesn't count." Rin returns to the fray.

"I thought we were going to fight plutocrats not instill a dictatorship."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"I know you are but what am I?"

"Why are you so childish?"

"Why are you in my goddamn house bitch?!" This was met with another slap. Followed by Saber smacking me in the back of the head. "DID YOU JUST BITCH SLAP ME?!"

"I suppose you could call it that Praetor."

"I'm no one's bitch! You're all my bitches!" This was met with the understandably irritated expressions. Followed by more domestic abuse. "Enough! I am a man! I won't stand for this!"

"Then take a seat." Tohsaka kicks me in the groin. One Wilhelm scream later and I'm on the ground despising the world.

"W-w-what h-happened?" My voice is higher than usual, almost as if I sucked helium. Tried that once. Not that exciting. Propane was much more fun. Shouldn't have tried to light that cigarette though.

"Well. It seems you overstepped your limits in a recent battle. Then for whatever reason you stabbed yourself several times with a broken bottle. Really that was kind of unnecessary and to be blunt, one of the most idiotic attempts at rehabilitating oneself I'd ever seen. Afterwards Saber here, who actually has some shred of common sense, sought out me and Berserker. It would have been significantly easier if you hadn't attempted to play a childish prank and the phone number you provided had actually worked."

"Did you call Jenny?"

"I'm going to kill you."

"I second that notion, Praetor you are an idiot."

"Ladies, ladies, flattery will get you nowhere." Saber pulls out that sword of hers. Rin starts to crack her knuckles. Their looks of rage cause me to almost wet myself. The resulting time span of around five minutes was nothing but suffering.

"I repent! Oh Lord I repent! Deliver me from evil Mr. Pesci for these witches are trying to disfigure me! This isn't how you treat someone who's ill! Berserker where are you?! Come back, I prefer impalement!" Eventually the agony ended. I sat in the corner of the room, curled up into the fetal position, sucking my thumb. "Mommy are the monsters gone?"

The response was a unanimous 'no'. Followed by several things being thrown at my head.

"Praetor, what were you thinking?!"

"Thinking? About what?"

"That battle! Why did you push yourself when you didn't need to?!"

"Well. You see. I had to have a badass moment or else what would be the point of my existence?"

Rin butts in. "You're self-absorbed."

"You're a tsundere."

"No I'm not! How is that even an insult?!"

"It's not. I thought we were just stating obvious things. Saber, you're narcissistic. We done here?"

They shout at me at the same time. "How can you just ignore the issue here?!"

"I have the attention span of a cockroach. SQUIRREL!" I stare at a corner of the room for a moment before turning back towards them. "What were you guys saying?"

Rin stares at me with a serious look. "Answer this. Seriously. Did you know you were overstepping your limits?"

For once I return her serious tone with one of my own. "Limits are meant to be broken." She facepalms at this cheesy response.

Saber rushes towards me, grabbing onto my shirt. She gets in my face. "You knew this would happen Praetor?!"

I offer a sheepish grin. "Not this scenario per se, but something along the lines of it."

Saber's look is one of pure fury. "How dare you."

"Who dares, wins." I state this without any ounce of regret or shame.

"After all you said to me? About my need to understand my limits. About the nature of perfection. You are nothing but a detestable hypocrite!" She shoves me away.

"Detestable? Yes. Hypocrite? Possibly. Not in this case though. I understood my limits. That doesn't stop me from trying to overcome them."

Saber glares at me. "At the cost of your life?"

I grin at her. "Go big or go home."

"Praetor. I am your Servant. Your 'partner' as you call it. Your life is important to me."

"For your interests in the Grail. I understand this." She glances down and clenches her fists but doesn't reply. "I got it. Won't happen again. No big deal."

Rin speaks up. "Do you not understand how close you came to death? If Saber hadn't found me and I hadn't acted quickly enough, you would have died."

"Isn't that the nature of this game? I wouldn't exactly worry about me if I were you."

"Believe me I'm not worrying about you. I'm just trying to explain the problem here. You wanted an alliance, and I helped you out. Now, you're going to listen, and this is going to go through your thick skull."

I sit there grinding my teeth.

"It was idiotic of you to attempt to match a Heroic Spirit in battle. From what Saber's told me if the enemy master hadn't been such a weakling you would have died right then and there. Instead you got off relatively lucky, all things considered. You need to understand that if you continue to act in such a reckless manner you won't last long. You will die. There's no point in allying myself with a weak-minded man that acts in such a way. I'm going." She walks out.

"Say 'hi' to Berserker for me!" The door slams.

"So, Saber. What now?"

Saber glances at me. Numerous emotions adorn her face. "Praetor. I am leaving as well."

I stare at her. "Come again?"

She shakes her head and starts chuckling without any humor. "You are a foolish man. No good will come of our continued partnership. I cannot work with someone who relies solely on themselves and ignores the words of others."

"Well. What will you do then?"

"I am not sure. Perhaps Tohsaka will allow me to accompany her."

"What about these?" I wave my hand at her, the command spells visible.

"Are you implying that you will use one of those?"

I start laughing. "I see no point in doing that. You want me to relinquish control then?"

She slowly nods.

"Very well I, Dante Di Prinzi, hereby relinquish all control over my Servant. Saber, you are now free to do what you want. I suggest you establish another contract soon, preferably with Tohsaka. Even though she already has a Servant and it'd be nothing but a detriment to her to take another one, I'm sure she'll accept you. Maybe." I smirk at her.

"Goodbye Praetor." She walks out with her fists clenched at her sides.

"Look both ways before you cross the street! And don't talk to strangers!" I say to her back.

"See ya, Emperor." I whisper under my breath after she's gone. A few doors slam and I can only assume she's gone. "Well, this is a bummer." I lay back down on the bed, hands behind my head with my legs crossed. There's a few cuts and bruises on me but nothing serious. It appears Rin was actually capable of healing me.

"Fuck." I lay there for a moment.

"Fuck!" Then I get up and barge through the door.

"Saber! Wait!" It's too late, she's gone.

"Shit. Get it together Dante." I go into the kitchen and start drinking as much alcohol as possible. About ten minutes later and I'm stumbling around drunk. I trip over my own feet and pass out on the floor.

When I wake up I'm greeted by the worst hangover I've had in a while.

"You're awake."

Groggily I glance around the room. "Who said that? Saber?"

"No. I am Assassin."

"Woah!" I quickly scurry to my feet. A simple slap to the face and I'm somewhat able of comprehending my surroundings.

In front of me there's a short man. His overall look, from his traditional looking clothing to his stern expression makes me think of a martial artist that you'd see in a cheesy action movie. His eyes are piercing and his tied back red hair along with the red clothing makes me feel he's almost aflame. I sense a sinister nature to the man.

"I am disappointed by you. I was expecting a decent fight. Or at least interesting conversation. Instead I find an unconscious man without a Servant."

"You didn't exactly come at a good time. Should have called ahead, I would have rolled out the red carpet."

"Is that supposed to be humor?"

"Kind of."

"It was not funny."

"Already we seem to be off to a good start."

"I am tempted to end your life here and now."

"Get in line. Apparently my death is in high demand this time of year." He continued to stare at me with a hard look. "You know, you have the face of someone who's eternally constipated."

"I still do not find you funny."

"Everyone's a critic. Want a drink?" He looks at me with the same serious expression. "I take that as a no. What do you want?"

"You don't feel any fear?"

"Should I?"

"I am Assassin."

"I heard you the first time. Name's Dante." I hold my hand out. His remain in his sleeves. "Ok. What about a bow?" I bow to him. He doesn't bow back. "Thought you wanted conversation?"

"You are annoying. But you are lucky. My Master views you as nothing without your Servant. He says there is no point in fouling my hands with your blood. As of now you are nothing but a drunk, and of little use in the grand scheme of things. At best you have potential. If that be the case, I will look forward to cutting you down if you were to ever improve. The same goes for your Servant. Do not disappoint." He vanishes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Carrot Top." I walk upstairs.

A quick shower and a change of clothes and I'm ready to hit the town. The Greg Kihn Band's 'The Breakup Song' initially broadcasting from my MP3 player. I quickly change it and Jay-Z's '99 Problems' starts playing instead. A few steps down the street and I'm clueless as to where I'm going. It hits me that I have no idea as to what to do. I quit my job. As boring as that was it was the only reason for me to leave the house. Besides Saber of course.

But now, I had no idea as to what I was going to do.

I decide that more alcohol's the best bet. Not sure if this is considered a relapse or not. For good measure I pick the seediest bar in the city. I feel like starting a fight. Sitting down at the bar I order a beer. It's a loud crowd in here. A few knuckleheads here and there. Perfect.

The bartender places the beer in front of me without question and in response I tip him with three ten thousand yen bills. The man's shocked but quickly accepts the bills and scurries off. For the next few half an hour he's working hard to grant my requests for more alcohol without hesitation. I give the guy two more ten thousand yen bills. He practically jumps for joy.

I've always found it amusing how paper makes people happy. The currency itself would have no value without gold backing it up. Then there's the fact that gold would have no value if someone hadn't seen the shiny rock and said 'that looks like it's worth something'. I've always found it funny that such a system was necessary for an economy to exist. Economics weren't my strong suit.

I'm starting to feel dizzy, more than I usually would feel when drunk. Things start changing. The jovial nature of the bar starts becoming solemn and grim. The voices that had happily chatted to one another around the room simply stopped. Silence consumed the area. Glancing over my shoulder, I notice the only two people left here are the bartended and myself. He's cleaning a mug, seemingly oblivious to what's going on. Is this the work of a Servant? Perhaps, Assassin actually is trying to attack me.

The Model 500 pops into my hand. I'm not even sure why I projected it. The presence of the gun doesn't shock the bartender. He continues wiping at the glass as if nothing's wrong. My hand starts shaking. I'm unsure as to why. It's starting to feel as if I'm looking at the scene from an outsider's view. Almost as if looking into a window from the outside. I have no control over my actions.

"You lied. Seems you're good at that." My eyes focus on the bartender. He's the only one here besides me so he had to be the one that spoke. "Pushing past your limitations? What bull. Just admit it. You wanted to be thrilled. You live for cheap thrills. No matter what consequence results from it."

Something about the man seems familiar. "Teacher?"

"I was never your teacher. Never did I teach a child who sought death."

"What?"

"Have you not realized where your 'games' will lead you? You will die. That's what you want. You desire death's embrace but you're too much of a coward to take it for yourself. You want someone to give it to you."

"That's not how it is."

"It isn't? You've been sitting still for years. Freedom has given you nothing but boredom. For years you've been dormant. It took a dead tyrant to show you your desire. Life has become nothing but a game to you. That's pathetic."

"Seems this is the chapter of my life where I get nothing but hate thrown my way."

"Hate? No, this isn't hate. Just common sense. I pity you. Unable to understand your own freedom. You're still shackled down. You'll die a slave." My hand slowly points at him. "You have no right to wield the gun." My hand starts shaking even more. The aim's unsteady. "So what's it going to be? You going to continue complaining about your problems, crying like a baby, and pretending you know what you're doing? Or are you going to actually be something."

"I don't know."

"You made a deal. You have to uphold it. You have to be a partner in your so called 'partnership'. As surreal as it may be, the girl needs your support. It's not a solo job. Got it?" I nod. "You're weak now. You lack finesse. You're unrefined, but you can be something. Like an uncut jewel. It's a lot of pressure. But pressure turns shit into diamonds, and turns diamonds into dust. Which one will it be?" I point the gun at my temple. "Don't disappoint."

A gunshot goes off.

I'm jolted awake from the dream. I'm sitting in an alley.

Bottles of alcohol all around me.

Some random homeless dude whose a few feet away raises his a bottle of his own in toast before slumping over asleep.

Well, I can't remember anything that happened. I get up and start making my way out of the alley. One foot in front of the other. I make my way through the streets. Stumbling around like the drunken fool I am. I kind of feel like a zombie at this point. I'm not even sure if I'm going the right way.

My head's killing me. Is it the same day? The sun's still out so I assume that's the case. Did I get plastered twice in one day? If it isn't the same day, then how long was I on the streets? I stumble around and eventually wind up at a children's playground.

The place is completely deserted, so I can only assume it must be a school day. That or this place just isn't that popular. Or all the mothers took their kids away once they saw me coming. Guess I must have looked like a pedobear. Chester the molester has entered the premises. Hide your kids, hide your wife, and hide your husband because they're raping everybody up in here. Just kidding, this is Japan of course. That sort of thing only happens when tentacles are involved.

I manage to sit down on the swing set. My head's killing me. I'm starting to imagine things. Part of me feels that in my ever present wisdom I'd ingested something stronger than alcohol.

I started to think I was going insane when I noticed two life-sized dolls playing on the seesaw. I stumbled over to them, almost tripping as I walked. From my mouth something came out that resembled "Why are dolls on a seesaw?" It comes out in a low grumble. Almost as if my voice has escaped me. What type of drug did I take?

They turn to me. Confusion on their faces.

Their exactly the same in their physical features. Both have porcelain white skin, with white colored hair and violet eyes. Their clothing is the same as well. Victorian era dresses with a mass of frills and looped skirts. Though the one's clothes are white and blue while the other's clothes are purple and black.

I stumble around the playground, everything's starting to spin.

"What are you doing?"

Apparently I'm going loopy. The world wasn't spinning, I was just twirling around in a circle, like an idiot, trying to stand upright. My reasoning capabilities are leaving me. So is my balance. Almost like when I was at the point of exhaustion.

The one who spoke up was the purple and black one, her tone was emotionless, almost bored. It was also in English. The other one, the white and blue one, was slightly behind her looking at me shyly.

"How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie roll center of a Tootsie pop?" I replied in English. As to the reply itself, I was clueless as to what I was trying to say. It's hard to focus. Words are just slipping from my mouth. What the hell am I even saying? Have I lost it? Did I ever have it? My head's killing me.

"I just chew them." The shy one speaks in English as well. I turn my attention to her and she quickly ducks behind her 'twin'.

I started smacking myself in the face in the hopes of regaining some semblance of sanity. I manage to ask a normal question. "What're your names?"

"Alice." They both answer at the same time. They sound almost the same. It's eerie. The only thing that allowed me to understand that two voices were answering and not just one is the fact that their tones differ from one another.

"Dante." I manage to state my name to them. The shy one nods while the bored one just stares at me.

"Do you want to play?" The bored one states this. "She wants to play." She gestures to the timid girl standing beside her.

"Normally I'd say 'no'. But since I have nothing else to do. Sure, why not. Just no strip poker." Ok it seems I'm finally starting to regain some semblance of my normal mindset.

The bored one nods. I'm relieved they didn't understand the joke.

I hear stomping behind me. The ground seems to quake. I slowly turn around.

The behemoth I'd once thought was of the Berserker class stands behind me. It roars in fury once it notices me.

"Well, I see you're back by popular demand." I start to access my prana in preparation for projecting a weapon. "What." My mind draws a blank. I can't feel the normal flow of magic in my veins. The feeling of pulling a trigger in my head is gone. Instead it feels like parts of my brain are locked off from my prying eye.

In short, I can't do jack shit. "Well, this is embarrassing."

"Let's play." The bored one speaks up.

I simply start to smirk. I'm going to die, even after Rin fixed me up. "I'm not going to get a respawn this time am I?"

The beast screams in reply.

* * *

**Well things have changed drastically, let me know how you guys feel about how I'm progressing with the plot. I've started to feel that Dante's become a tad like a Marty Stu. I might have thrown him a bit too much hate in an attempt to balance things out. I'll be trying to reign things in soon enough in hopes of balancing out a few issues I feel have popped up. -SB**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: _I. ignoramus _is not yet extinct! There are too many bad jokes and terrible references that have yet to be made! I regret nothing.**

* * *

**Chapter 9- Mindwipes and Maniacal Waifus**

"You're pretty good at making tea." I sip from a cup.

Pinky finger outstretched of course. Have to stay classy.

The timid Alice beams at me in response.

For whatever reason I'd purchased tea at some point. Probably because I figured Saber would enjoy it, being an upper class individual and all that.

She didn't enjoy it. Guess it hadn't been her cup of tea. Puns.

The other Alice blankly stares at me. Her expression of boredom has become an annoyance to me.

The three of us are sitting down at my dining table. The two children are across from me.

"That was an interesting fight was it not?"

The bored one glances at me. "What are you talking about?"

"That fight I had with that monster you summoned." A smug smile is on my face. "Pretty epic if I do say so myself."

She blinks at me. "There was no fight." She looks like she's about to laugh. "You fell to your knees begging for mercy. You were so pathetic that we pitied you."

The smugness is wiped off my face at the memory I'd tried to forget.

They'd accompanied me home after sparing me. Or rather, the emotionless one had forced me to lead them to my house. Something about wanting to see my base of operations and judge whether or not to neutralize me.

Of course I'd resisted.

Right up until the monster smashed a crater in the ground in front of me.

Leading them to my house made me feel a bit like a proud father. As well as a pedophile.

A quick look in the mirror as the timid one made the tea proved the latter to be more accurate.

No wonder the timid one was scared of me at first. I'd started to grow a beard. Full on neckbeard. Kind of wished I'd taken the time to buy a fedora. Just so I could be complete. I'd finally reach my final form.

The beard was pathetic and patchy. That wasn't the creepy part of this. The creepy part was that I, at least I hope it was me, had decided to shave half of it off. So half of my face had hair and the other half was clean. I have no idea why this was the case. I was grateful that whoever ended up attempting to be a barber had decided to leave my eyebrows and the hair on my head intact. I really hope it had been my own drunken self that had done this and not some random person taking advantage of my intoxication.

Still, if it had been someone else I had to sort of tip my hat to them out of respect. They took the usual permanent marker prank up to the next level. I ended up having to fully shave.

The timid Alice speaks. "You haven't spoken in a while. Is something wrong?"

I glance at her. "Just going over everything in my head."

She nods, then glances down at the tea in her hand. So this is the result of Saber's absence. Sitting at home with little girls and drinking tea. It made me feel like a certain internet meme had just given me their seal of approval.

I glance at my hand. The command spells are gone. Well, the actual command spells are gone. After I'd broken off the contract with Saber they'd vanished. Instead the area they were in is now replaced with a tattoo.

A tattoo that looks exactly like the command spells. Another testament to my drunken revelry.

I'll just consider it another reminder of the many failures on my part. I broke off the contract in a physical sense, but apparently it was still stuck in my head.

Sure, she wasn't my servant anymore, so I had no connection to her at all, but now I still had a reminder that I'd been part of this idiotic war.

To make matters worse I still couldn't project anything anymore. At this point I had kind of accepted my lack of magic. Hopefully it was temporary. Still, now that I think about it, it's not exactly pleasant to be reminded of failing. My intoxicated self hadn't exactly thought things through when he decided to permanently mark my body.

Damn tattoos. These pseudo-command spells are like a tramp stamp on my hand.

But what do I do now?

Am I becoming a lolicon?!

Will I actual start to find children cute instead of disgusting?!

This isn't good, I have to take it out on someone else before I join the dark side! I don't care if they have cookies!

There's a lot of ways to be sent to jail, I'll be damned if I get incarcerated for something like that. If I'm going down for anything it's going to be indecent exposure!

Time to crush these children!

I'll start with the one I hate.

A pseudo-smile crosses my lips and targets the emotionless Alice. "I don't like you."

So many things could have been said. This was probably the weakest of them all. It was almost as if I was only saying it to reinforce my beliefs. Pathetic. GG Dante, GG.

"I feel the same way with you." The child doesn't even feel the need to take the higher ground over me. She's stooped to my level. Or rather, I'd already stooped to the mentality of a little girl. For shame.

"You feel?" Feigned surprise is shown from my tone of voice. "Stop the presses, this brat has actual emotions." And so my brilliance continues.

You know what? Screw being the better person! I never let a little thing like decency or maturity get in my way before. No point in letting it do so now.

"Should I bring my friend back?" She's referring to that beast. I still have no idea as to what it is. Yet I shiver at the notion of encountering it again. The timid one shakes her head no in response to the bored one's question.

Ok, this is becoming irritating. It's difficult to distinguish between the two of them. Sure they're color coded but that's not good enough for me. It's not like they're goddamn Skittles. If they were, I'd be tasting the rainbow. Instead I taste depression and shame. I can almost hear the sad violin music.

I'm just going to have to refer to them as something different, so as not to confuse myself. Thing 1 and Thing 2 would be appropriate but doesn't really drive the message home quite as well as I'd like. Plus, what would that make me? The goddamn Cat in the Hat?

Both are named Alice. Alice starts with the letter 'a'. Together they're AA, like the batteries. Or the breast size. Come to think of it wouldn't that be right around their measurements? NO! I'm neither a priest nor a coach! Joe Pesci is my faith and being a dick is my sport! Lolicons are diseased! I can't go completely insane yet.

Back to the matter at hand. A+ and A-. Perfect. Plus and Minus. Reminds me of Pokémon for some reason. If only they could say nothing but their names.

The boring one gets to be Minus since she sucks. The shy one can be Plus. I can tolerate her.

"So, what now?" Plus speaks up. I actually don't just ignore her. Must be her positivity. Goddamn puns.

"I want to play a game." Makes me think about a certain puppet on a tricycle.

"An actual game this time?"

She turns to Minus, who nods. "How about cards?"

"Got a deck?"

She pulls one out from the folds of her dress. Guess those fashion disasters are good for something.

"Know how to play Blackjack?" She shakes her head in the negative.

"I'll show you." The cards are shuffled with my hands. "Always good to learn new ways to gamble."

So begins my corruption of humanity's future. At least I didn't say strip poker.

I'm going to hell.

At this point I should just go bald. That immediately makes you twenty percent more evil. It'd let me take kick Satan's ass. But knowing me, I'd start positioning my pinky finger near my mouth like an idiot if that were the case. Damn, if I go bald I should grow a goatee. It might actually make me good with chemistry. Do demons do meth?

All these important questions roaming around my head.

* * *

Sometime later.

This tea. It seems. Strange.

This, this, isn't my house. Is it? I'm not in Kansas anymore.

Must be my imagination. Maybe I'm drunk.

We were playing blackjack and they won. My wallet was empty after it all. Goddamn brats.

They're sitting across from me. Smiling. Well I'm glad they're happy. For now I'll let it slide. But as soon as I…

What was I thinking? Where the hell am I?

This cake actually looks pretty good. I think I'll have some.

These girls, they said they were both Alice. They're nice. They keep offering me tea and sweets. It's like a picnic.

I wonder how I got here. This place feels strange. It's welcoming but I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Maybe I'm supposed to be somewhere else.

"Hey Alice, do you think he remembers?" The one in white speaks up. I took her to be the shy type. Guess I was wrong.

"I think you'd have to ask him yourself." That's the one in black. Her smile is really weird. It doesn't suit her at all.

"Mister, what's your name?" They say it at the same time. Smiling. It's almost cute. Cute. Wait.

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING?! CUTE?! My head was clear. Completely blank. Nothing to interfere with my actions. Now I have a migraine. Things start hitting me hard. Not physically. Mentally.

Memories start pouring in. Some of them fit in place. Memories of a young antisocial rich kid with too much time on his hands. Parents that weren't ever around. That old cliché.

Some seem almost as if they've come from someone else. A dog dying from my hands. Locked up in the dark. Escaping from hell only to get caught. More clichés. More pathetic backstory.

It's all confusing. I feel like more than one person. Like my life isn't my own. I can't decide which set is my own. So instead they sort of meld together. It's a combination. I don't even know if it's real or not.

As soon as they force themselves back in it almost seems as if they fade away slowly. My mind's trying it's best to fight whatever's trying to screw with it, but it's a losing battle.

I decide to give up on the remembering phase and focus on something else. That being the fact that these two punks are trying to kill me. Unpleasant thoughts start popping into my head at their expense.

"My name?" They smile at me. Smile and nod.

"You want to know my name?" More smiling and nodding. It's starting to piss me off.

I start to smile back. "My name is Inigo Montoya." My voice is accented. "You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Their smiles turn to looks of confusion. They glance at each other before turning back to me. "That's not your name?"

"DAMN STRAIGHT IT AINT!" I don't need to remember anything to know who I am. What type of person I am. I'm a dick. I grab a pie off the table and smash it into the one dressed in black's face. A hot cup of tea gets lobbed at the one in white.

"Tea! Fucking tea?! What next crumpets?! Scones?!" My tone's mocking. I'm trying my best to patronize them. "Should I start wearing a monocle?! What about a top hat?!" Now I'm pantomiming wearing such things. "Do I look classy enough to be an Englishman?!" I jab myself in the chest with my thumb. "Huh?! 'Ello gov'na, I'm talking to you!"

I jump on the table and start kicking stuff off of it. The tea pot goes flying. The two children are shocked. "You want to know my name?!" I point to myself in question. "Why the hell does it matter? It could be goddamn 'Slim Shady' for all you know!"

I get right in their faces. "Here's Johnny!" I almost scream at them. "You two better cut the shit before I start to get really pissed."

For a moment they actually share a look of fear. Then it ends. They start laughing.

"Ha, ha this is fun. It's a game we came up with."

"What are you talking about?"

"It ends with you going bye bye."

"Bye bye?"

"In here everyone is equal, whether you're a boy or a girl. Everyone forgets their names."

I start to smile. An unnaturally large smile. "What, are we philosophizing on gender roles in society?" I actually chuckle. "Cut it out before I spank you."

They shake their heads 'no'. It makes me sigh. "Listen here, kiddies. I've done many things in my life. I will do many more." My voice starts to raise in volume. "I'm not dying because I forgot my name. Not when I never use my actual name!" Emotions I never even considered feeling start showing from my tone. "If I go out, I'm going out with a bang!" My hands mimic an explosion going off. "So before I start having to shout out even more profanity and threats, I suggest you hit the off switch."

There's a pause. Then they actually giggle. "Sorry mister, you can't stop the game." Another fit of giggles. "You're going to go 'bye bye' if you can't remember your name."

"My name?"

For some reason a Fort Minor song ends up popping up in my memory instead.

I stare at the two. Then a smirk pops up on my face.

"Which one do you want?"

This confuses them. "Mister, you can't have more than one name."

"Stop calling me 'Mister'." My tone is scolding. "Listen, here you little shits. I'm through with the bull." I project the best glare I can muster at them. "I'm not going to die because of a war I'm no longer in."

"That's not what this is about." This causes me to hesitate, it confuses me. What other motive could they have for doing this? I suppose it doesn't matter. I have to get out of this no matter what. Giving up and dying like this is out of the question.

It'd probably make Saber even more pissed at me. She's not my servant but I can't help but think that.

I'm already a disgrace. I can't let two little girls beat me. That's unacceptable.

I start to reach into my back pocket for my wallet.

My memories are puzzled and questionable right now. Though my mind is still functional, it's a fight to keep check of reality. I've had plenty of bad trips. I've handled withdrawal. Magic's helped me a little, but it's not been the only thing keeping me alive.

I've questioned my sanity more times than once. I'm experienced in all things crazy. I think I can keep a grasp on things. At least I hope.

Then again, I have no idea what's going on, but I'm assuming this is some sort of boundary field. Maybe a reality marble. I was never that good with comprehending the different forms of magic. Projection was always the one I stuck with. Still it seems like whatever this is that it's high level stuff. I should have been on guard.

However, from what it sounds like I only have to remember my name.

The ID in my wallet should help with that.

My hand goes into my pocket and starts feeling for the wallet. Nothing. I start to check my other pockets. Still nothing.

"Where's my wallet?"

The one in black holds it up. It takes me a moment to calm myself.

"Why do you have my wallet?"

"It's ours' now."

My jaw practically drops at their audacity. "Give it here."

She looks at me with a mischievous smile. "No."

"But it's mine."

That smile pops up yet again. "Not anymore. We won it, fair and square." She turns to the white one. "Isn't that right, Alice?"

The one in white nods in agreement, a smile on her face as well. "That's right Mister."

The 'Mister' makes me groan in frustration. I'm beginning to be sick of this game.

I'm still standing on the table, looking down on them. I have the high ground so they have no chance against me.

Why, I'd probably cut them down with a single blow if they tried to lunge for me. Then again there's not a bunch of lava around us and I'm going to be the one lunging.

I take aim at my target. Our eyes lock. Challenge accepted.

I dolphin dive off of the table and land in front of the girl in black. She was expecting me to directly impact her, so it throws her off just a bit.

Which gives me enough time to grab her ankle and pull her to the ground. She utters an exclamation of surprise as I manage to pull the wallet out of her grasp.

I quickly jump to my feet and raise my closed fist in the air as a way of celebrating my victory. For whatever reason reclaiming my wallet from a little girl makes me feel like a rock star. I'm a champion all right.

Afore mentioned little girl is glaring at me in anger. Hopefully she won't attack me. Or worse, wait if she started crying? My mind still sees her as the apathetic type. That doesn't mean she couldn't pull off a few crocodile tears though.

So here I am searching through my wallet while crossing my fingers that she's not going to start bawling. Aha! Here it is!

And here.

And here.

And here.

Dammit! Why do I have so many IDs?! 'Tom Victors', 'Dick Wright', 'Bruce Wayne', 'Giovanni Sakaki', 'Bud Weiser', 'Jack Daniels', 'Dante Di Prinzi', etc.

There's even one that only has the name 'McLovin' on it. Just 'McLovin'. At least it says I'm an organ donor.

There's at least two dozen of these fake IDs in here. The ages range from 16 to 61. Most have various versions of my face on them but one has some chick. She looks kind of familiar. Our eyes are the same color. I can't place where I've seen her before. Oh well, at least she's a solid nine.

Now on to the matter at hand. What the hell am I supposed to do now? Just start reading out these names in the hope that one of them will be my actual name? Well, doesn't hurt to try.

"Alfa Kenny Wun". The little girl's glare intensifies. Wonder what her problem is?

"Gil T. Azell." She starts mumbling something that vaguely sounds like 'you can say that again'.

"Al Kikuraz." This makes both of them chuckle. Wat.

"Seymour Butze." The one in white continues laughing while the one in black just stares at me with an expression that says she's not impressed. Just for good measure I read off the one with the chick on it.

"Anita Lyfe." The one in white keeps laughing. The one in black just scowls.

"Ok. . . Those didn't work. Let's start with the others." I fumble around to pull the other IDs out. The two children just stare at me like I'm an idiot.

"Mister, you're going to fail."

I start grumbling profanity at them. Part of me just wants to start shaking my fist at them while saying something like 'Get out of my head you young whippersnappers!'

* * *

Several dozen names later.

The world is finally starting to fade away. I guess one of those aliases were right. Not sure which one. Don't really care at this point. I'm just hoping I can get out of here and clobber these two for trying to kill me.

Oh. . . wait. Did I say 'clobber'? I meant 'cuddle'. Wait. . . That sounds even creepier! I just can't win, can I?!

We're back in the kitchen. It's sometime in the afternoon. Both of them are staring at me.

At this point I'm not sure whether or not what I'm seeing is reality. My head's still a bit foggy, and I'm a bit confused as to who I am. A lot of the memories I saw just didn't fit into place. Something doesn't feel quite right.

I'll just blame it on these brats. I don't know what they were trying to do but they definitely screwed with my head. Now what am I going to do with these two? Alice and Alice. A+ and A-. Plus and Minus.

They've reverted back to how I previously saw them. The one in black is blank and the one in white is timid. I can't tell if I'm just portraying them this way in my head or if they're just screwing with me. Maybe a little of both.

The best news is that out of all the fuzzy thoughts in my head I can at least remember why they tried to kill me.

Apparently they won that blackjack game pretty easily. To the point where they ended up with not only my wallet, but all the cash I had in the house. Which was a lot. I never trusted banks. Always preferred the bed mattress. It gave me a very rational fear of house fires.

After losing a large chunk of what I needed to sustain my lifestyle I flipped out. Then I flipped the table. Then I flipped them the bird. Followed by several choice words. It even made Plus cry. Snatched as much of the money out of their hands as I could carry, and finally tried to make a mad dash for the door while screaming 'suckers' at them over my shoulder.

I got hit with whatever spell they had before I made it five feet from my starting point. Remembering all this made me feel terrible.

I only made it five feet?! What the hell is wrong with me?! I used to be able to at least make it ten feet in situations like this! Sometimes even twenty! Granted, in most similar cases I ended up getting either shot or stabbed instead of having to participate in a tea party but I can still whine like a bitch about it all I want.

I'm kind of impressed that these two kids managed to take me down that fast. Plus they beat me at blackjack. Even when I was cheating and counting the cards. Then again I always sucked at that so my attempts at cheating probably just made it easier for them to win.

There's a clear morale to this story. Take notes kids, if you're going to cheat don't suck at it. It's not as easy as it is in the movies. Especially when your opponents are porcelain dolls with realistic comprehension skills.

A few minutes and a very heated argument later, everything is cleared up.

I got my money back, wallet and all, and all I had to do was grovel and beg like a wimp to two little girls that probably weren't even in their teens. Not that big of a deal.

Also I had to promise to take them to get ice cream. Not sure where I'm supposed to find an ice cream shop. I'm not exactly a social butterfly in case it wasn't obvious and the most I've traveled around this country was when I was with Saber. During that time I was more worried about the police or the giant monster that ended up being related to these two kids.

Speaking of the police. Minus seems to have a thing for watching the news. I questioned her as to why. She simply shrugged and said 'I like to be entertained'. I didn't push any further.

Apparently they found the two officers I left behind. It was big news for a day or so. The department kept replying with the generic 'no comment' and 'we're looking into it'. My car was found too. Crushed to a near unrecognizable state. Lots of questions on why it was there. No one around to answer them. Good thing the plates were fake. Also a few murders here and there. All nobodies, either homeless or prostitutes, so the media didn't really care about them that much. A shame really.

It sounds kind of suspicious. Something might be up. Understandable considering how this magic war is going on. The best part out of all of this was that none of it was traced back to me. I would have thought that they would have nailed as much as possible on the 'mysterious clown shooter'.

Guess my fifteen minutes of fame are up. Kind of makes me sad. Maybe I should go kick a mime in the nuts.

"Ok you two let's go."

"Ice cream?" They say it at the same time. In the same tone. It scares me a bit.

After releasing a frustrated sigh, questioning as to where my life went wrong, concluding that it started at the moment of conception, and muttering 'maybe', we're outside and walking down the street. To where, I have no idea.

"Mister." I turn to Plus.

"What." My tone's a bit annoyed.

Minus speaks up. "An enemy master and servant are here."

I can't even respond before said enemy speaks up. "i'M bAcK! yOu LoOk TaSTy aS eVEr!"

"Shit." After a quick facepalm I slowly turn to face the foe.

Of course. The goddamn clown. I was hoping she was living under a rock somewhere. Preferably far away from me. Instead she's staring at me with a strange look. I can't make a conclusion over whether its lust or hunger. I'm praying to Pesci that it's the latter.

"Mister who is this? Does she know you?"

"That 'mister' thing's starting to get on my nerves." I start glaring at the clown while addressing the two kids next to me.

"This. . . is someone I'd rather not be dealing with."

Minus snorts in amusement. "What, like an ex-girlfriend?" For some reason Plus blushes out of embarrassment.

"Well last time we met she did want to eat me." My response is met with a glare.

"yOu hUrT mE LaSt TiMe! iTs My tURn nOw!" Her voice is filled with venom.

Great. Now she's not only trying to eat me, but now she's holding a grudge too. Why do things always have to become personal?

"What did you do break her heart?" More snickers from Minus. I'm really hoping I'm imagining all this.

"Hey Chuckles, you were the one who tried to eat me. I defended myself."

This doesn't please the cannibalistic clown. "yOu sHOt mE!"

"We all make mistakes." A sad look is on my face. Almost as if I regret what I did. Then I dash that possibility away with the next sentence. "Mine was not using a gun chambered in a larger caliber."

This starts to piss her off even more.

"lAnCEr-kUn!" Her voice is shrill. Almost like a siren. The mythical kind and the cop kind.

Kun? Am I dealing with a little boy? Hopefully not, I've had enough of the future of humanity.

"My wife, who is this disgusting heathen?" Standing in front of me is the so-called 'lancer-kun'. It hits me then that another Lancer has been summoned to replace Berserker. That's not good.

The guy in front of me appeared out of nowhere, which I'm guessing means he was in his spirit form up until now.

He looks to be in his late forties, maybe even fifties. I'm not exactly sure since I've never been good with telling age. Though his gray hair shows he has to be at least of a decent age. I'll admit, I'm a bit envious of the guy's beard. It puts my patchy disgrace to shame.

If it ended there then the guy would be your average aging tourist. What separates him from the average Joe has to be a combination of his red eyes and the fact that he's wearing goddamn plate armor.

Black plate armor to be specific. To drive home the point that he's some glorified badass has to be the left side of said plate armor being entirely stained with blood.

I didn't even know armor could stain. This guy had to be a serious lazy ass to neglect cleaning his armor to the point where it actually stained. The blood on it is akin to an alcohol stain in the shag carpet of a 1970s Volkswagen bus.

As in it's everywhere and really noticeable. Hasn't he heard of waxing?

The best part is how he has a red cape attached to the front. It's all tattered as if the guy just went through hell and back. Hell, he probably did being the servant to this crazy clown. Plus, the fact that it's a cape just makes me happy for some reason. I can almost picture this guy wearing his underwear on the outside with tights on.

I dub him 'Waifuman'. Making an honest lunatic out of a demented cannibalistic clown woman.

"tHiS iS tHAt GuY."

Waifuman raises an eyebrow at this. "It is him?"

Pennywise nods in the affirmative. Waifuman glares at me. I can see the fire burning in his eyes. The pure passionate hatred he spews in my direction. It makes me giddy with excitement.

"You!" Great, Waifuman has evolved into Angrywaifuman.

Angrywaifuman has learned the move 'outside voice'. "You dare to harm my wife?! I shall eviscerate you!"

I scratch my head out of confusion. "You want to masturbate me?"

He stumbles backwards out of shock. "No you fool! I shall eviscerate you!"

"You want to fornicate with me?"

"Eviscerate you heathen!"

"Liberate?" I pause to stroke my chin out of contemplation. As if I'm considering a proposal. "Well I have been being pushed down by 'the man' for the past few days. Thanks for the offer."

"Eviscerate you idiot! Do you not know what the word means?!" His voice almost squeak. The guy's really passionate about his waifu. He probably even has a body pillow of her. "You harmed my wife now I shall end you in a time consuming and brutal fashion!"

"I'm not really a fan of fashion. I just wear whatever I grab first." For emphasis I point to my current outfit. "Though I have an ex-Servant who would probably love to talk to you about that. She's an 'artist'." I roll my eyes at the word.

Lancer is puzzled. I'm guessing he thought I was going to cower in fear or something. Nah, I got a plan. Time to up my antagonizing level to the max.

First I mumble to the two kids near me. "Plug your ears."

"No."

"Do it or no ice cream." Surprisingly this actually works.

Then I face Lancer. "Yo, Lancer, five bucks says your wife's not a virgin." His raises his eyebrows. I smirk. I've just gotten started. "I'm betting she got plowed real hard by the circus elephant. Hell maybe the bearded lady got in on the action too." I start making obscene gestures with my hands just to make sure he understands.

I can feel the steam coming from his ears all the way from here.

"What was that supposed to accomplish?" I turn towards Minus. Plus still has her ears plugged. I gesture for her to unplug them.

"Well now he'll charge at me without thinking and Saber will swoop in and slaughter him."

Both of them blink at me.

"Shit. I forgot." I rush to the kids and scoop them up in my arms. Then I make a break for the crowded streets.

A roar of fury comes from behind me. Along with the giddy laughter of a certain insane clown. No not the Joker. He's not a ginger and I'm not the goddamn Batman.

I sprint as fast as possible and manage to make it a decent distance away.

Well, decent if we're talking normal human. For a Servant, especially a Lancer, my sprint is almost in slow motion. Before I can process exactly how screwed I am, something smashes into my back and sends me tumbling forward.

I roll on the ground while tucking the two kids into my chest in a protective manner. Then I manage to get to my feet and continue the dash to freedom.

Maniacal laughter reaches me as I dart away. "You cannot run away, you filthy creature!" I ignore him and continue rushing away.

"Why are you carrying us?" I briefly look at the two. Then I focus on running.

"Not sure actually. You guys need to lay off on the carbs, you're kind of heavy." This confuses them. It also shuts them up for a moment. Which was my plan.

Then the moment of silence is ruined. "Why can't we just fight?"

I keep running to safety. "Don't know. Just decided to run. Stop questioning me when I actually do something decent." I stare directly into their eyes. "Unless you think I should be more of an ass." That silences them.

I keep dashing away. The sound of my feet smacking against the sidewalk reverberates into the distance. I takes a while but I finally make it to the populated streets.

"There's another master." Minus points at someone in the distance. I'm really hoping its Rin. She'd be better than nothing.

My hopes are quickly tossed to the side when I get a look at the master. It's an older man. Older than Lancer. Gray hair, gray beard. Damn does every guy except me have an awesome beard? I feel like less of a man.

He's obviously a foreigner like me. Though he has a different aura around him than the average tourist. A dignified one almost.

Plus his clothes are far more elaborate and elegant than the average stiff. He screams class and upper class. The frown he makes when seeing me and the two Alices tells me he's a bit uptight. Probably the do-gooder type.

I charge towards him while wailing like a banshee. Right before I collide into him I hit the brakes.

Then I put on my best impression of a terrified victim. "Sir, there's a man chasing us. I don't know what he wants." My voice wavers a bit. "Please help. Please, think of the children! The children!" I wiggle the Alices at him to reinforce my point. They indulge me and play along by putting on their best looking scared faces.

He starts fumbling with his words as he attempts to respond to me.

Then I see Lancer. He's calmly walking towards us. Like a predator stalking its wounded prey. He's purposely taking his time. Berserker did something similar now that I think about it. These 'Heroic' spirits have a sadistic side.

I point at him and start blubbering something about 'bad man wants to kill us'. The Good Samaritan locks eyes with Lancer. Both of them stiffen. Then the master tells me to run. I don't think twice before I book it out of there.

"Damn, I love white knights."

I keep running away until I'm at least a mile or so down the street.

Then I put down the two Alices before I practically collapse on the pavement. People give me confused looks as they walk by. I'm sweating as if I'd just run a marathon. Well I suppose I technically did do something like that. My breath comes out in gasps as I struggle to inhale and exhale at a reasonable pace.

"Shit, I'm out of shape." I suppose magic kept me from realizing my own weaknesses. I actually had thought I was in pretty good shape.

"Mister, are you ok?" Both of them say this at the same time.

It's starting to unnerve me, they're like those creepy kids in the Shining.

"Can you two stop speaking at the same time? It's weird."

They stare at me for a while before blinking. "Why do you say that, Mister?"

I could swear they were smirking at me for a moment there.

Their recent tendency to use 'mister' is also starting to make me a bit annoyed. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. Or else they're purposely trying to irritate me. I wouldn't put it past them.

I'm still kind of confused as to why they're sticking around. They should have just killed me with that beast of theirs. At this point I think I would have preferred that outcome.

"What now?" I've regained my breath.

"Ice cream." The way they say it pisses me off. It's like I'm being commanded.

I answer to no one, especially not small children.

"Ok. Well let's go."

This is met with cheer of joy.

They're drastic changes in personality makes me think that they might have warmed up to me.

That or they're bipolar.

Maybe both.

Though it makes me wonder which personality of theirs is the true one? Do they even have a true one? I still know nothing about them. But, for whatever reason they remind me of myself to a point.

Almost makes me guilty since I was lying about looking for ice cream. Screw them, I don't even like ice cream. I'd much rather prefer a burger at this point.

Plus I'm still not sure if this is the real life or just fantasy. We never discussed the specifics of what they did to me. I have no idea if I even escaped from their wonderland. Maybe I'm still in that dreamlike state. If I am still in my head then it must be being influenced by them. I would never dream about traveling around this damn city with these damn brats.

If I think about it, what's to say that what I thought was reality was actually a dream and what I thought was a dream was actually a reality? I'm confusing myself to think about it. Maybe I should spin a top.

As I'm thinking over all of this drivel I'm vaguely aware that Plus and Minus have each taken a hold of my hands.

We're just walking forward. In their minds it's a journey to find some frozen sugar milk. In mine it's a journey without a destination.

I have no idea as to what I should do now.

Before this war there was at least some semblance of order in my life. I never knew what day or what time it was. I knew I'd go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. I knew I'd probably do at least one thing illegal. I knew I'd piss some people off. And I knew I'd be bored throughout all of this. Bored and alone.

Now, with a war going on, it seems everything I do is sporadic. I still don't know the date or time. Though, I'm no longer bored. And I suppose I'm no longer alone. But I don't know if I'm going to go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. There's a war going on.

So far I've met a cannibalistic clown with a grudge against me. Her doting maniacal servant. That random old dude that was willing to risk his life for a stranger. Rin. Her crazy servant. Saber. Then these two little brats and that beast of theirs that I can only assume is their servant.

Of course there's also Rider and that other dolt of a kid. Hopefully they're out of this thing for good. I don't need to have to deal with any more problems.

Where do I fit in all of this? Technically I shouldn't even be in this anymore. I should go to the supervisor and give up. This isn't my fight. I couldn't care less about some mystical cup.

Yet here I am. Continuing to be a part of something that I was never meant to be a part of.

An outcast.

It's pretty pathetic considering the roster of misfits that are involved in this.

We're still walking.

By now we're probably at least an hour or two from my house. We end up in the center of the city. Then we cross the bridge that allows travel between the suburbs and the newer district.

I end up in front of some shabby looking coffee shop.

What caught my attention was the name of the place. 'Ahnenerbe'.

"I hope that's based off of the actual translation of the term and not a Nazi pseudoscience think tank." Like I said I know my history. To an extent at least.

"Because if it's the later than what's their daily special? Racist bullshit or cyanide capsules? Perhaps it's Charlie Chaplin moustaches?"

Curiosity gets the better of me and, after bluffing to Alice and Alice that this place might have ice cream, I enter through one of the doors.

The place is pretty quaint. I can vaguely feel that the owner was going for a German style with the design. There's almost no one in it.

The first people I notice are the two employees. Both are teenage girls. The one seems cheerful and friendly. Typical girl that would be deemed 'moe'. Her hair's a reddish orange and she has one of those ahoge things like Saber. Her eyes are a lighter orange. She's waving at me.

I ignore whatever it is that she's saying.

The other one's cleaning with a broom and has a sour expression on her face. I'm not sure if that's her usual one or if she's putting it on just for me. Maybe I'm special. It's the kind of expression you'd see on someone who's been constipated for weeks. Don't ask why I know what that looks like.

I automatically conclude that she's a tsundere. Just from that look. Though the twin tails helped in my conclusion. Her hair's a strange color. Moss green I think? I'd have to check Crayola for the specifics. Her eyes are a similar color.

Both of them are wearing the same schoolgirl uniform. Must be the owner's fetish.

There's only two other humans in here.

I specify 'humans' because there's a handful of midget cat people going about the place. I'd ask why, but fuck it. I've seen crazier things. Magic and Japan have desensitized me to the abnormal. That and not really giving a damn.

Also there's a talking cellphone making fun of the green haired chick. Again, no clue as to the how or why. Don't really care. Actually I'm kind of enjoying the insults it's dishing out. I'll consider it karma for giving me the evil eye.

Then she snaps the phone in half and my only friend in this insane asylum is gone. Goodnight sweet prince. I didn't know you more than a minute and you didn't know me at all, but it's still a tragedy that your snarky nature was taken from this world.

Anyway, we'll mourn for the phone later.

The other two are a man and a woman.

At least I think that's a woman. The better term would probably be 'girl'. Probably late teens from her look. She's tomboyish. Red hoodie, white shirt, jeans. Her style gets my seal of approval. Right now she's scarfing down food faster than Saber did.

If I wasn't a wizard, in a perverted sense and not a magical one, I would have probably assumed she was male. Then again assuming makes an ass out of you and me so maybe I'm wrong. Might be the best bet since the two things that would really seal the deal as to what her gender was are kind of M.I.A. She looks familiar though, kind of like Saber, so I'll assume she's female.

The man looks to be in his early twenties. I approve of his fashion sense as well. Black leather jacket, red shirt, black pants. Simple but it works. Though I'd probably wear a white or black shirt instead of a red one. Red's never been my favorite color. Always been the boring type with my sense of style. Brown, black, and white. Better for blending in the crowd.

The talk of fashion makes me glance at my own clothes. Black jeans, black shirt, and a black hoodie. All black. Man, I'm a depressing individual. Least I can listen to that Johnny Cash song and feel somewhat like a badass. AC/DC helps too. Ah, the mending of a pathetic man's shredded ego.

*Sigh.

Back to the matter at hand. The man's hair color is red. Dark red.

I'm beginning to become prejudicial against redheads. That goes for the moe employee as well. Sure it's idiotic, lacks any basis in reason, and is completely ridiculous but the last redhead I got to meet ended up being a psychotic cannibal clown.

Therefore I now have a checklist when I meet new people. Those who are redheaded, clowns, or ever displayed an interest in the consumption of human flesh are people that must be approached with caution.

That's why I end up taking the table farthest from those two.

Plus the blonde started glaring at me suspiciously. I think she's assuming I want her food.

It's like dealing with a starving dog.

The orange girl introduces herself as Hibiki Hibino. Well actually since its right to left I suppose it would have been actually her introducing herself as Hibino Hibiki before giving us menus.

Screw it I'm American, lets bastardize other peoples cultures! That wasn't sarcasm.

From this day forth she shall be referred to as Hibikini. For no reason other than I need something mediocre and trivial to keep me entertained while this blonde chick's devouring her meal quite loudly and this green haired tsundere is glaring at me for no reason.

The redheaded guy is looking into his wallet. From the sad look on his face I can tell he's not exactly pleased with his partner's gluttony.

The Alices skimmed through the menus and realized that, surprise, this isn't an ice cream shop. Now they're whining at me. As well as giving me puppy dog eyes. This along with the loud munching noises from the table across the room is making me want to escape. If I'm fantasizing all of this and not actual in the real world then I'm a stranger guy than I thought.

Finally it gets to be too much. I end up erupting. "You! Man-woman! Didn't your parents ever teach you any manners?!"

At this point the entire room went quiet. The look on the redheaded man's face told me everything I needed to know. It made me want to cry.

I done fucked up.

The blonde became very tense. Then she slowly turned to face me.

"What did you say?" She says this in a staccato fashion. With each word being punctuated with a small pause.

Being the genius that I am and refusing to go back on what I say I reply with this beauty of a phrase.

"I said 'Man-woman. Didn't your parents teach you how to eat goddamn food without making the noises someone would expect to hear in a shitty 70s porno?!' Or at least something like that."

At this point I realized that it was too late to apologize.

To my surprise the redheaded guy briefly started to chuckle. That is, until the blonde silenced him with a look of pure fury.

The tension could be cut with a knife.

Then the two Alices get up, ask Hibikini where the bathroom is, and excuse themselves while walking away. Thanks guys for the support.

For a while nothing happens. I can almost see the tumbleweeds roll by. Almost hear the crickets chirping.

Then the blonde gets up. She just stands there for a moment. A dark look on her face. Then she charges at me. Fists raised. I do what any sensible man would do when a woman attacks with violence on her mind.

I put on my best Chris Hansen impersonation. "Why don't you take a seat, right over there?" I point back towards where she came from.

It stops her for a moment. I can see the confusion on her face.

Bullshitting time. "I'll buy you whatever you want. As long as you tone it down a bit on the noises. There's children around. They might get the wrong idea. You understand don't you?" I try to put as much emphasis on this as possible, but in a way that I hope she doesn't take as being patronizing. "Their parents would be very upset if I were to bring them back with bad manners that they didn't have before." My tone's completely different. I'm calm, cool, very much collected, and in control.

All I'm doing is hoping to Pesci that those TV shows I've seen on training dogs will pay off.

I'm going to die, aren't I?

I'm totally going to die.

Surprisingly it works. She calms down. I'm guessing the mention of free food is what paid off.

Then she grabs me by the shirt, lifts me out of the chair and growls something along the lines of 'I'm keeping you to that promise' followed by a long detailed list of exactly what she'll do to me if I don't keep to my promise. She throws me to the floor and then sits back down in her chair.

I quickly call over Hibikini and tell her that I'll pay for whatever the blonde one orders. The green haired chick is laughing in the corner.

I throw a fork at her. Several things get chucked at me in return.

I end up sitting with the redhead and blonde.

The redhead introduces himself as Keith.

The blonde just grunts at me. From now on her name is 'Ugh'.

"So were those your sisters?" Keith's the one who tries to start conversation first.

Ugh has a mouthful of what looks to be pasta.

"Nope. I told them I had free candy in the van. Now they follow me all around."

Ugh looks up at the word 'candy'. Then I have to explain that I was joking. To both of my companions. Almost got blacklisted for a moment there. Guess I need to remember not to joke about such things in a deadpan voice.

Hibikini takes our order. Then a group of three girls comes in and she starts fangirling over them for some reason. I hear some vague mention of 'comedians'.

The green haired girl ends up coming over with her broom. Then she starts sweeping really loudly. Dust ends up clouding up the area.

"Hey tsundere chick. I'd prefer to not reenact the Dust Bowl." She glares at me. Then Keith has to kindly and politely explain to her that she's being a dipshit. She glares at him a bit less harshly and then walks away.

By then Hibikini is done being a groupie and goes up to the girl to explain that she shouldn't be so rude. Apparently her name's Chikagi. I'll refer to her as the Hokage. Why you may ask? I reply with 'just, don't ask'.

Our foods brought to us.

"What about the two kids?" I end up having to explain to Keith that they're probably not coming back. Then I have the difficult task of convincing someone that two little girls are slightly diabolical.

Conversation actually goes fairly well after this. Brief chitchat over things like the weather, followed by loud burping from Ugh, and ending with a farewell and a parting of ways.

Keith was a decent enough fellow and he ended up paying for more than half of Ugh's food. I insisted on paying the tip.

He, along with Hibikini, weren't that bad.

Guess gingers do have souls.

Now, what to do? Find the twin Alices or just go home and ignore them for as long as possible?

Well, guess it wouldn't hurt to look for them.

Let's just hope I don't have to deal with anything too serious.

I have a bad feeling about this.

* * *

**Shout-out to King Keith. This chapter had a short crossover with his main OC from his latest story The Defiant Ones. Check it out if you'd like. I'd like to thank all the people who took the time to review as well. Feedback is always welcomed, especially the constructive criticism kind. The most recent review, written by Quill, was particularly helpful with improvements to this story. I completely overlooked that plot hole with Dante's Command Spells in the last chapter. Hopefully I sort of fixed it in this one. Also I tried to breakup larger dialogue pieces as suggested. Not sure how I did with that. Now, here's where I could make a long and pitiful excuse up for being lazy, but I won't. It has taken far too long for this update to occur. Hopefully this'll be the longest hiatus I ever have. As an act of repentance I've made this chapter a few thousand words longer than the average one I write. Let me know if this length per chapter is more preferable. Or maybe if something shorter would be better. I've seen excellent fics on this website that had chapters that were 4,000 words at most. Though honestly the length wouldn't really update how often I update. That's a fickle factor for me. Sorry for the lengthy AU, I just needed to comment on some things. -SB**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I'm a dick for taking so long to update. Especially when I just said I'd try to be faster. So here's a sort of average sized chapter after almost two months of waiting. Crossing my fingers that it's not complete garbage. It starts off in Dante's view.**

* * *

**Chapter 10- Rearm and Relook**

The responsible thing would be to immediately look for them. Just in case they were in danger right at this moment. The practical thing would prepare before doing so.

I quickly chose practical over responsible and take a detour.

Retracing the path back home from the café makes me feel paranoid. Like someone's watching me. I'm hoping it's not Assassin. Fortunately Lancer doesn't seem like the type who'd just observe me after what I'd just pulled.

I pass my home and keep going.

Soon I'm at my destination. The convenience store.

The old guy offers his typical grunt. I think I'm starting to grow on him.

I buy another pack of cigarettes. Not because I need them. I'm just thinking ahead and trying to avoid having to make an unnecessary trip in the future.

The transaction complete, I head to the reason I really came here. The pay phone. Yet again it's my lifeline to another side of the world.

"Twice in one week? I feel honored." The voice is amused. It's the same voice as last time. Then the amused tone leaves and is replaced by a cold one. "What do you want?"

I sigh in response. I'm not going to relish having to ask this guy for a favor. "Listen, you know how you guys owe me?" The other line is dead silent for a moment.

Then hearty laughter comes from it. "You still won't let that go?" The laughter subsided into muffled chuckles. I could practically see the guy wipe a tear from his eye. "Dante, I thought we paid off that debt?"

"Well, you did. To an extent. But. . . I really need your help. I'm without a gun."

The tone is again quiet. I can tell I've actually surprised him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"You?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

A bit of chuckling. "You must feel naked."

"A bit."

"I'm curious as to how you've ended up in this situation. You're well known to be well armed."

"Unexpected business popped up."

"Thought you stopped doing business?"

"I did. This is different." He sighs. He can tell I'm not going to elaborate.

"Exactly what kind of gun are we talking about?" He's back to business now. All serious.

"I need something . . . concealable."

"I'll see what I can find. That all?"

"Yup."

"Couldn't you just find someone else?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're probably the easiest to handle when dealing with this kind of thing."

More chuckles. "Don't be a stranger." The line goes dead.

I exit the store and walk back the way I came. I know where I'm going. It's the usual place.

Still I feel like I'm being watched.

Following the wise words of Taylor Swift, I shake it off.

Fuck that song. It's in my head again.

I take a few sporadic turns in the hopes of throwing off anyone who could possibly be pursuing me. But I make it to my destination just the same. It's a shady alleyway. A pretty generic shady alleyway if you ask me.

There's a guy in a suit at the end of it.

Sure, because that's totally inconspicuous. Incognito mode on Google Chrome is more anonymous than this guy, and all that does is delete my browsing history.

He glances in my direction. "If a tree falls in the forest and no one's around does it make a sound?" He seems to say it as seriously as possible. I almost break down in a fit of laughter at this. No wonder the guy on the phone stopped doing the password gimmick. It's pretty stupid when you think about it.

"Of course it does. What kind of dipshit would think otherwise?"

The man sighs. "Nice to see you again Dante. The package is already delivered."

"What type of toy are we talking?"

He smirks. "Beretta Pico."

I just stare at the man for a moment. "What?" My mouth is wide open.

"You said you wanted something 'inconspicuous'." I grind my teeth at him in response. "I didn't necessarily want the smallest of the bunch."

He starts chuckling. "Not the smallest. Just one of the slimmest."

I growl at him in disgust. "Unlike your mother."

The guy just stares at me. "Take it or leave it." He deadpans this. At least I got under his skin with childish humor.

"I don't want the Boku No Pico gun."

"Hey, at least it's succubus." I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed over the fact that he made that reference. I settle for just looking at the guy for a moment before wandering off to pick up the package. He doesn't even acknowledge my departure.

It's not that far away. Another alleyway. This time I walk over to a pile of trash bags. Instead of an android lying on top there's a small paper bag. The kind you'd keep your lunch in. I'm a bit annoyed at how they went about doing this. They could have just given it to me in person and cut out all this middleman bullshit. Their paranoia rivals mine.

I pick up the paper bag and rummage through its contents.

I pull out the gun in question. It's in pretty good condition considering its location. Though I'm a bit saddened that it didn't come in the box. It would have felt more complete. I suppose I'm asking too much. At least they included a few boxes of ammunition. .380 ACP. A popular pistol cartridge for self-defense.

Personally I'd always preferred something bigger. I'd made an exception to that preference on occasion. Mainly because it used less prana to project something smaller. Now wasn't such an occasion. This pistol wasn't one of my projected ones. It didn't need to be the smallest. It didn't need to be the slimmest. I would have preferred a Glock. Or perhaps a snub-nosed revolver like the Charter Arms one I'd used. Apparently my tastes weren't shared by others. Specifically the generous individuals who donated this to me.

Who was I kidding? They probably scavenged this from a job and figured I wouldn't complain since it was basically free. Basically I was being thrown a bone. Normally I'd have no problem with this. I'd always been a mutt. But now things were different. I'd have to clarify that I wasn't some stray dog.

There's a box of bullets in the bag as well. It's a case of twenty. I eject the guns magazine and load six bullets into it. As I'm inserting it back into the gun I realize that they'd only given me one magazine. I'm glad to see that they spared no expense in helping me out.

The box of bullets goes into one of my pockets. I refrain from racking the handgun's slide, and instead just slip it into my other pocket.

After doing so I once again get the feeling that I'm being watched. This time I can actually determine where it's coming from. A quick glance up and I see her. I'm a bit stumped as to why they chose to stalk me. And I'm even more stumped as to why they chose Berserker to do the stalking. I salute her for doing a piss poor job.

Then, hoping to lose her, I make my way out of the alley and into the crowded streets. Now, to find those two brats that ditched me.

* * *

**Nero Vision**

"He what?!" From the expression that is on her face I can tell that Tohsaka is worried. Praetor. No, he is no longer worthy of that title.

That man. It seems he has gotten into trouble.

"Berserker, what do you mean he was attacked? By who?" Tohsaka sent her joke of a servant to quickly check on his status. She had insisted that it was not for his safety but rather to keep the sanctity of this war in check. Something about him being a liability and his death possibly exposing the existence of magic and the involvement her organization had in this.

This was not that convincing of an argument. Clearly she had other motives. I should watch her more closely.

Berserker returned with her report just a few moments ago.

I am not sure how I should feel about it. Am I concerned for his wellbeing? Even with all of his faults? His mistakes?

"It was my old master. She has a new servant. An old geezer. He got upset pretty fast after Pig started talking to him."

Tohsaka released a large sigh. Even though I cannot exactly trust her, I can understand her feelings. "What could he have possibly have said to anger a servant that easily?"

I cannot help but answer her. "Tohsaka, the fact that you have to ask that just shows that you were not around him long enough to get to know him. He has a tendency to mock those around him, even if they may be his betters."

Tohsaka stares at me with an irritatingly questioning glance. I suppose I might have grumbled a bit on the end of the sentence.

I try my best to clear any misunderstanding. "He always questioned the beauty in the world. His cynical nature was quite irritating, and he never gave nearly enough compliments to those who deserved them!" Tohsaka is blinking in confusion. Berserker is having the audacity to laugh. For some reason my face feels warm.

"Saber, are you sure you don't want to just remake your contract with him?"

How dare Tohsaka suggest such a thing?! I feel a bit insulted just at the thought of such a notion. "Never! Praetor is an infuriating buffoon."

"Praetor?" That disgusting woman is questioning me over such an insignificant thing.

"Yes?! Is something wrong with that?" A smug grin is on her face. I would like nothing more than to wipe it off.

"What kind of cutesy nickname is that?"

"It is not some 'cutesy nickname' it is a title worthy of respect! Besides I doubt 'pig' could ever be considered a 'cutesy nickname' by the standards of anyone!"

"A title or respect? But didn't you just call him 'an infuriating buffoon'?" Tohsaka butts in.

I cross my arms and turn away. "He was my Praetor. Now he is nothing."

"Well he was smart enough to start a fight between my former master's servant and some random one on the streets."

Both Tohsaka and I can't help but stare at Berserker with wide eyes. "He did what?" We say it almost at the same time.

She just blinks. Then she smiles at us. "Yup. He ended up pretending to be a random weakling to get another master to help him out. Then he ran away before they started to fight. It was a pretty dull battle." She offers a fake yawn. "From the fight I'd guess that my ex-master's servant is of the Lancer class. Just like I once was. Though he's nowhere near as impressive of a Lancer as I was."

I cannot help but snort at this side note. Berserker glares at me before continuing. "The other master's servant seemed to be either an Assassin or an Archer. He mostly stuck to the shadows and attacked from a distance. Like I said, it was boring." Now she is playing with her hair. Brushing a strand aside that was in front of her eye. "The Lancer ended it when he used his Noble Phantasm. I couldn't tell if the enemy team was killed or if they just retreated." I am stunned that this simpleton of a servant was capable of not only staying hidden to witness all of this but also competent enough to relay it back to her master.

The master in question speaks up. "What was the Noble Phantasm the enemy Lancer used?" Berserker stands still for a moment trying to remember. "I'm not sure as to exactly what it was. He summoned a bunch of spears. Tried to surround the other servant. I don't think he succeeded, but I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're 'not sure'?" From the tone of her voice I can tell that Tohsaka is irritated.

I can understand as to why. I feel irritated that I overrated her. Even if it was for a mere moment. She succeeds slightly, only to fail in the long run. Berserker is a buffoon. She was unable to discover the identity of an enemy servant even when they unveiled their Noble Phantasm. Plus she was incapable of confirming the status of the other servant after the battle. Her information was not as useful as it should have been.

"Well right about then is when Lancer glared in my direction." She is attempting to reason her idiotic decisions. "So I figured it was better to retreat than to stick around." Coward. She should have fought to the bitter end! It would have been glorious. Her sacrifice would have been remembered for generations to come. Actually it probably would not have. Considering this war is distastefully secretive. Then there is also the fact that her appearance will always be forgettable when compared to others. Such as myself.

"Wait. You retreated? After you thought he knew you were there?" Something is definitely wrong about this. Tohsaka seems almost incredulous. That is when I realize exactly what Berserker did. What she failed to realize. "You led him right to us."

The sheepish grin she offers makes me want to punch her in the face.

"Whoops. My bad."

Scratch that. I do not just want to punch her. No, she deserves far worse than that. I want to skin her alive!

"Are you so idiotic that you cannot even comprehend the severity of your actions?!" I clench my fist out of anger. "The enemy could be here at any moment!" She nonchalantly waves me off. This does little to dissipate my anger. In fact it just upsets me further.

Her words worsen my disposition even further. "Nah. I'm just kidding. I didn't feel his presence follow after me." She glances in the direction of Tohsaka. "Even if he did, I followed your orders and went all around the city. It would have been a wild goose chase for whoever followed me." A big grin pops up on her face. The arrogance, to be proud of such a simple act.

Tohsaka is frowning. "I don't recall ever giving that order. That explains why you took so long to return."

A dry chuckle escapes her lips as Berserker nervously rubs the back of her head. "I was kind of hoping you'd overlook that. This city is so big. It was too tempting to go exploring."

I cannot help but, as my former master would put it, facepalm.

"Did you at least see where Praetor went? Without leading the enemy to him?"

A smirk appears on each of their faces. "So now you're worried about him? Wasn't he an irritating buffoon just a minute ago?" Tohsaka says this. Then she tries to hold back laughter behind the palm of her hand.

Again I start to clench my fist in anger. These two have the audacity to question me?! I am beginning to question the wisdom of allying with them. "He is a part of this war. In a way that is my own doing. I am responsible for him in a sense."

Tohsaka tilts her head to the side in a questioning pose. "But you're not his servant? Why would you be responsible?" I stand there for a moment, unable to respond.

Berserker is cackling for some reason. Then she stops to speak. "Don't worry about him. Pig can handle his own. He went and got something to eat at a restaurant. Then he came out alone and wandered off on his own. I'm not sure what happened to the two little girls that were with him." She shrugs. "I guess they ditched him. After leaving he wandered around erratically. I guess he was trying to throw off any pursuers. Pig is kind of paranoid." Berserker hesitates for a moment and I can tell that her brain is trying desperately to come up with some form of logic. "Or else… could he be some kind of celebrity?!" Both Tohsaka and I shared a glance. Yet again Berserker was showing she was not that bright.

Tohsaka answers her idiocy. "I doubt that. What happened next?"

Berserker seemed a bit disheartened, but she continued. "Well he backtracked to some store with an old guy in it. Then he talked on the phone for a while before leaving. After that he walked around randomly again before talking to some random guy in an alley." She actually did the motion of walking with her index and middle fingers. "Then he went and picked up a paper bag that was in a pile of trash." I was a bit disgusted that Praetor had gotten to the point that he was going through trash. "There was some sort of pistol in it. He loaded it and put it in his pocket. Then he went off on his merry way."

Tohsaka appeared to process this for a moment. "So, he has a gun now. Why would he need that?" She looks at me questioningly. I simply shrug. "According to Berserker, Praetor just had to deal with the enemy. Maybe he feels he needs it to protect himself better."

She taps her finger against her cheek as she thinks. "I suppose that's possible. Though it's not like a simple handgun will do much against a Servant." She sighs deeply. "Let's just hope he's not going to do something stupid with that gun." Then she turns towards Berserker. "What happened after that?"

Berserker shrugged. "Don't know. I lost him."

"How?" Tohsaka and I shared this question.

"Well, Pig glanced at me. The he started smirking and gave a little salute. Before I knew it, he'd moved out into a crowded street and disappeared." The fact that she could not even keep track of a human causes me to sigh. "In conclusion, Berserker, you are terrible at stealth." Before she can protest, Tohsaka speaks up. "Did you at least keep an eye on the man he spoke to?"

Berserker gives her a blank stare. "Why would I do that?" The palm of my hand meets my face. "Berserker. What was the point in sending you?" She simply blinks at me in response. Tohsaka releases another sigh. "Let's just forget about it. He'll be fine." She glances at me from the corner of her eye. Then she mumbles something that sounds like "At least I hope so."

"What now?" Berserker's the one that speaks up.

"Well, Saber here is going to need to find a new master." Both of them stared at me. It caused me to puff out my chest in frustration. "I do not need a master." They shared an indecipherable look before glancing back towards me.

"Actually you do." Tohsaka replies. "Yeah, you'll disappear soon if you can't find one." Berserker jumps into the conversation. "Your best bet would be in finding Pig and reforming your contract."

Her words anger me. Partly because she has a point. Though I refuse to give in. "That fool is not worthy of having a servant such as I." Berserker actually started laughing. If Tohsaka was not there I would have probably struck her where she stood.

"What is so funny?!" She tried to stop her roars of laughter. By the end of it she ended up getting hiccups. Which was even more annoying. She continued hiccupping for quite some time. Tohsaka chose to answer in her place. "Right now Dante's the easiest option. Unless you'd prefer forfeiting her chance at the Grail."

I snorted at the last part. "As if I would ever quit."

"Then he's your best bet."

"Why can I not just simply form a contract with you?"

She thought about this for a moment. "Well, I have Berserker. I don't think I could handle a second servant." Right now Berserker was making various noises, from sobs to chuckles. I had no idea as to why she was doing this.

"I did not intend for you to have two servants." My tone was darker than usual.

Tohsaka actually flinched. "Well, she's not that bad." We stared at each other for a solid minute. "Ok, maybe she is. But she's still my servant."

"Your loyalty is misplaced. Other masters would jump at the chance to exchange a Berserker for a Saber." I placed my hands on my hips and proudly smiled at her. "Especially one as amazing as I."

She just blinked in confusion. "I don't really see a need in trading servants."

I glared at her response.

"I don't think Dante would do it."

This made me chuckle. "Maybe. But he was never one to make intelligent decisions."

She nodded at this. "True. The way he acts makes him a liability."

I nodded with her. "This is correct."

"As of now he'd just get in my way in an alliance. He's too reckless." We both continued nodding in unison. Berserker was gasping for air in the background.

"Exactly my point."

"He's a bit of an idiot. He'll probably get the Mage's Association to crack down on us."

"His personality is too erratic."

Tohsaka nods more furiously. "Yeah, he's definitely unpredictable." We keep nodding for some reason. "But he's still your best bet."

This causes me to gawk at her in shock. "But, we just went over how terrible he is!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be impossible to change his attitude."

"What would be the point?!"

"As I've said, he's basically your only chance at sticking around."

"There has to be some other way?" She thinks for a moment.

"Maybe we could find someone else. But who's to say they're any better? They could even be worse."

I cringed at the possibility. "Why do you even care?"

She blinked at me. "I'd like to think of you and I as allies. As for your master. He just proved himself to be more risk than reward at the moment."

"So you think he is capable of changing his ways?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, it might take more than just some time by himself thinking. Maybe he needs someone to be there for him."

"You suggest it should be I?" I raised my brow in question.

Again she shrugged. "Well it seems like you two got along in some strange way. That is, until his own stupidity almost killed him."

I frowned at her. "Fine, I will think about reforming my contract with him. But for now it is better to wait and see if he has learned anything."

She started chuckling with her hand in front of her face. "Just don't wait too long. He offered me a place to stay and I'm really sick of sleeping in a hotel."

I sighed at this. "So that is what this is about."

She kept laughing. "Can you blame me?"

I smiled at her. "I suppose not. That hotel is rather lacking."

"Speaking of the hotel, it's about time we head back." She turns towards the other person of our party.

Berserker is attempting to hold her breath. I suppose it is in order to get rid of the hiccups. I refrain from asking. Berserker simply nods in response to Tohsaka. "Let's head back." More nodding. Then we set off for the hotel they have been staying at.

* * *

**Back to our OG OC**

I was never a fan of walking. Usually I ended up doing it just out of laziness. Always was a pain in the ass to get the car out of the garage and drive it around in traffic. Though I always liked the freedom of choice.

Unfortunately my car was totaled. Courtesy of the brats I was now trying to track down. Yet again I have to remind myself as to why I'm doing this.

Morality? No that was a word I was unfamiliar with.

Responsibility? Hell no.

Boredom. That had to be the reason. I had nothing else to do.

Sure, I could follow Berserker and find out where Saber and Rin were. But where would be the fun in that? I had to let them cool down. I had to let them come to me.

Berserker stalking me could mean anything. On one hand it could mean that they worried over my safety. On the other it could mean they considered me a liability. A dangerous asset that could compromise them. Maybe even an enemy that would have to eventually be put down.

I almost relished the thought of such an ending. I'd go down as the bad guy. Personally I always felt that it was the villain that would make or break a story.

Damn my head hurts. I got to stop thinking about these things. I didn't want to get chastised again by the imaginary voice of my teacher. I wasn't going to give up. I had to keep going on.

Right now that meant I had to find these two kids. Just for the sake of completeness.

This also meant I had to walk. A lot. I walked to the main road.

After a while I'd ceased my complaints. I came to accept that it was inevitable that I'd have to walk around for a while before I found them. Hell you could say I'd come to tolerate the walking.

Then God started pissing on me.

I hadn't even realized that as I walked the blue sky had been disappearing behind clouds. The darker surroundings hadn't even fazed me. I just thought it was becoming night.

Really, in the past I should have stepped outside more often. Or at least gotten a goddamn watch.

The rain pretty much killed any ability I had to tolerate my situation. I ended up cursing up a storm. At the storm. Predictably Mother Nature gave zero fucks about my profanity and it started pouring even more. Lighting struck in the distance. A roar of thunder boomed afterwards.

Then a truck drove by. It hit a puddle and water was propelled at me. My clothes were even more soaked in the aftermath. Though it didn't even register in my mind.

I had to take a quick double-take over the vehicle's appearance. It wasn't a normal truck. The thing was big. Well it's a fucking truck of course it's big. It had a trailer, so I could only assume it transported goods of some sort. Most of the truck was chrome.

I could also see that it had neon lights practically covering all available space on it. They were turned off. I'd imagine it'd be a hell of a road hazard to drive it with them on. His headlights were on though, probably because of the rain. Their beams pierced the dark environment in front of the vehicle, revealing the path ahead of him.

On the trailer there was some badass artwork of a white tiger fighting a dragon. The traditional Asian style of dragon. The trailer itself was large enough to the point where it'd probably be capable of carrying the gate to the nearby temple. Which was saying something considering that gate was huge.

The amount of work that was put into making this truck was ridiculously extravagant. I'd heard of these types of trucks. Dekotora trucks. This was the first one I'd actually seen though.

The first guy who decided to pimp out semi-trucks must have been on cocaine. It was a hell of a drug, and the only explanation I could think of for creating this abomination. The truck was essentially the lovechild of Optimus Prime and a Las Vegas slot machine. Or perhaps it would be a pachinko machine, considering where I am. Fucking Japan, man.

I could only sum up my emotions over this in two words.

"Must have."

The truck was stopped at a red light so in traditional GTA fashion I rushed up and attempted to open the driver's door. It was locked.

The driver stared at me like I was insane. I probably looked the part considering I was pissed, soaked, and currently smiling like a maniac despite all of that.

Well my attempts at theft were thwarted. Curse you door locks.

Time to try a different method. I knocked on the trucks window. The dude behind the wheel was trying to look ahead and pretend I wasn't there.

He looks like the hard-worker type. Guy's even wearing overalls. Probably spent years building this truck. Probably a lot of cash wasted on it too.

I keep knocking on the window. He keeps ignoring me.

*Sigh. Let's speed this up before another car drives up behind him. I pull out the Pico and tap the window with its barrel. This gets the guys attention.

He starts spazzing out. I guess it was some attempt at not getting shot. A defense mechanism. The gun didn't have a round chambered so I wasn't worried about accidentally killing him. Poor guy probably wasn't expecting someone to walk up and attempt to steal his ride.

I started pounding on the window with the gun in an attempt at making him at least open the window. The flaw in this kind of reasoning was, well, the fact that I had a gun. And I was violently banging it against the window of his truck. In my haste I forgot this fact. I also forgot the logical course of action a normal person would take in response to this.

Well, he didn't smash the gas pedal to the floor and zoom away. So I guess it's really the second logical course of action a normal person would take.

The guy starts pulling out his cellphone. Probably to call the cops. This leaves me with two choices. Run away to avoid the cops. Or plan B. I back up a bit and then bring my elbow down on the window. It breaks open just enough for me to reach in and open the door. All while the driver is staring at me in horror with his phone in his hand.

I point the gun at him. "Gimme the phone."

He complies.

"Get in the passenger seat."

"What?"

"You heard me, move over man." He hesitates before doing this.

I get in the truck while dripping rainwater and close the door.

"What are you going to do to me?"

I glance at the guy while smirking. "Nothing. Just sit there." Somehow the light's still red. I drive through it anyway. Then I turn on the neon lights.

"Hey! It's illegal to drive with those on!" I glance at the guy with an eyebrow raised. "Do I look like I give a damn?" The driver shuts up.

I smile at the guy. This time it's a normal one, not the psychopath kind. "Relax. I just didn't want to walk anymore in this weather."

He stares at me.

"I'm just going to go around the block. Then I'll get out."

He's still staring at me like he doesn't believe me.

"Pinky promise." I hold out my little finger while driving. A drop of water falls from it.

He stares at me like I'm an idiot.

"Didn't your mother tell you it's impolite to stare?" I glare at him. He gasps and then reaches out nervously. And so I just forced a grown man to make a pinky promise with me. Get on my level.

The drive is uneventful. Basically I go around the streets honking the horn with the neon lights on. I'm a bit surprised the cops don't show up.

Then I spot two familiar brats sitting on a bench. It's right outside the hospital. They're not soaked since the bench itself is being sheltered underneath the hospital.

I stop the truck in the middle of the road. A car I didn't know was behind me starts blaring its horn at me in response. I open the door, give him the finger, and then start waving the gun at him. The other driver takes his chances with oncoming traffic and zooms off. I look at the truck driver.

He's looking at me in fear.

I pull out my wallet and toss ten 10000 yen notes at him.

He stares at me in shock.

"Didn't I tell you not to stare?"

He starts fumbling for words.

"I don't want you to remember my face when you call the cops." I wave the gun around just so he gets the picture. "We clear?"

He quickly looks down.

"Keep the money."

He starts nodding.

"Call the police once you've driven a few miles away. Report it as being vandalized while you had it parked somewhere." I point at the window. "Not sure how insurance works here, but maybe it'll pay for the repairs. If not use that cash to fix it." He keeps nodding. I toss him his phone and close the door. Then I walk off, pocketing the Pico as I go.

"Hope to never see me again." I wave in his direction as I walk away.

"Thank you." He says this as I leave. Polite guy.

"Don't mention it. Seriously. Don't." I keep walking as I say this.

The two Alices hear my voice and start running towards me. Well, Plus does. Minus stays seated on the bench, out of the rain. "Mister!"

I groan. "You're still keeping that up?"

I get a confused look from Plus. She's starting to get soaked from the rain. "What do you mean, Mister?"

I sigh at this. "Forget I said anything."

"Ok, Mister!"

That's totally going to get on my nerves. "Let's just get out of the rain."

She nods and all three of us end up sitting together on the bench.

With me in the middle.

My personal space is nonexistent. I have to take a few deep breaths before I've calmed down over this breach in my bubble. "Where were you two?"

Minus answers. "Around." Well that totally answers my question.

"Good to see you weren't in danger." Shit, that was a slip up. Their eyebrows raise. "It would have been a pain in the ass to get you out of it." I lightly chuckle, hoping to brush it off. From their expressions I can tell it doesn't work. Though fortunately they don't press the matter.

We sit there, staring at the rain in silence. I'm completely soaked. Water's dripping down my face and my hair's hanging down around my face like curtains to a peepshow. Though I'm probably a less pretty sight to behold.

"Why were you at the hospital?" They didn't fool me. Just like I didn't fool them. The only building of importance around here was the hospital. Maybe it was just my paranoia getting the best of me, but it seemed too much of a coincidence that they'd be around here for any reason besides the hospital. That's the only reason I'd been here before those cops tried to cart me off to prison.

Both of them stared at me as if they had no idea as to what I was talking about. "You guys are outside of a hospital." I point at the building's sign for emphasis. "Is it really that far of a stretch to assume you're here for a reason?" Both of them glance at each other. Then they sigh.

At the same time. It's kind of creepy.

Plus speaks up. "I…have a condition." I just sit there. I can tell this is going to go into some serious stuff. For once I'm not willing to interrupt. "When I was really little, some people invaded my homeland."

Kind of wish you could be a bit more specific with 'homeland'. If I'd have to guess I'd say Ukraine. Or at least in that general area. One of those Eastern European countries. Her skin color was the biggest giveaway. Not to sound racist or anything but I doubted someone as pale as her would have been born in any of the other hotspots currently around the world. Then there's the fact that Russia had been busy the past few years.

"In the attack... my family died." Rainwater ran down her face. At least that's what I first assumed. "I got hurt pretty badly." Glancing down I notice that she's actually crying. She tries to hide it by wiping her tears away with her hand.

That's when I realize something. I have no clue as to how I hadn't noticed it before this. Probably because I had been trying to ignore them as much as possible. I had avoided looking at them directly. Refused to look into their eyes. I'd wanted them to just disappear so I hadn't had to put up with them anymore.

Her arms. And her hands. Hell, even her legs. They were all prosthetic. They looked a lot like the appendages of a Barbie doll. I looked at Minus. I actually looked at her. She was the same. I hadn't even noticed. How had I not noticed?

"There was an explosion. Then I woke up in the hospital."

That doesn't really narrow the list of suspects. An explosion could have been anything from an anti-personnel mine to an artillery strike. I suppose it didn't really matter. They all had something in common, they were weapons of war. Violence and destruction. Things I loved. Here, sitting beside me, were examples of the evil nature of it all. How it could harm the innocent just as quickly as the guilty.

The reason I preferred guns over explosives. Guns were far more precise. Though both were fickle. A bullet could ricochet. Or worse, I could just simply miss. I couldn't live with myself if I ended up shooting someone on accident.

I wonder if the one who caused that explosion could say the same. Maybe they didn't want to do it. Maybe they were ordered. The higher powers were usually the ones to blame. Not the grunts, to them it was either just a job or else a patriotic duty.

But did that excuse carry any weight for those that were hurt? Did it comfort them when they thought about all they had lost?

I looked at these two girls next to me. Then I looked at my own hands.

Once upon a time I would have hurt them. In the name of business.

If I was still that person I would have blown their brains out right now.

Without even blinking.

They were enemy masters after all. It'd only make sense to get rid of them. Some stooge in the Mages Association would wholeheartedly agree with me.

Yet that was in the past. I only did things now if I felt like it. I only did things that pleased me.

Right now pleasure is my business.

I did what I want, when I wanted to, and I answered to no one.

And right now I wanted to do only one thing.

"Hey."

Both of them looked at me. I looked at them.

For once a sincere smile was on my face. Not a smirk. A smile. One I hoped was out of kindness.

"Let's go get some ice cream."

Minus raised an eyebrow at me in question.

I responded with a thumbs up. It was incredibly corny.

Plus reacted by matching my smile and immediately got up from the bench. Minus dutifully followed, and I ended up bringing up the rear. We rushed through the rain in search of an ice cream shop.

* * *

**Well. Apologies for the long wait. I suppose I have some explaining to do. I could lie and say I've been doing something of actual purpose. Like curing some deadly disease or helping the elderly cross the street. Though to be honest I've just been being a lazy bastard. Plus I struggled for a few weeks over the simple question of 'should I make a chapter from only Nero's view'. I ended up coming to the conclusion of 'naaaaah'. Also, I've been playing some pretty badass video games. Dark Souls and its sequel being two of them. I recommend them for anyone who wants something that has a bit of a learning curve. I was not paid for that promotion. Unless you count the hours of misery I felt as I died repeatedly, followed by a brief respite of joy once I defeated a boss. Suck it, Ornstein and Smough! I've also been enjoying the new(ish) Fate game that came out for mobile devices. If you haven't heard of it, it's called Grand Order and it's only out in Japan as of now. Though it's easy enough to get it if you live elsewhere. Use the Google. It is your friend. -SB **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I'm planning on retconning a bit of things in the older chapters. It'll mainly be smaller things, like where I mentioned Saber making Dante toss all the TV dinners only for the next chapter to focus on TV dinner consumption. I'll also be rechecking the grammar and spelling and fix any mistakes I overlooked. Now, onto the new chapter. This chapter is a lot darker than the last few. Sure there's still humor, but it's not as much as usual. Let me know what you guys think.**

* * *

**Chapter 11- Setback and Setup**

We ended up being quite lucky that the shop wasn't that far away.

All three of us ended up dripping rainwater all over the place. At first I thought the owner was going to kick us out, but I suppose he was kind enough to let us stay.

Or else maybe he was just so greedy that he wasn't going to turn away potential customers. No matter how many puddles they made in his shop.

Really shop is kind of an exaggeration. The 'shop' was awfully small, only fit to contain at most four or five people.

Bastard charged me an arm and a leg for a couple of shitty ice cream cones. Guess it was greed and not kindness that gave him reason to let us stay. The guy should move to New York, he'd fit right in with the hotdog vendors.

It was unfair of me to blame the guy. He was just trying to make a living. Then again, who ever said I was fair?

I'd just started to walk away after paying for the ice cream.

Ready to handle the torrent outside.

Plus and Minus were smiling. Brats had conjured up a sob story that they lost their money.

Right in front of the owner.

I didn't fall for it. But I didn't want to make a scene, so I paid for their ice cream. They owed me. Manipulative munchkins. They were lucky they weren't hanging from a tree in the background.

"Have a nice day." The asshole who scammed me for frozen tit juice wishes us farewell. It felt like a polite way of telling us to hurry up and get the hell out of his place of business. I keep walking without even responding. Plus and Minus happily following.

We make our way outside.

"I never said I was going to actually pay for the ice cream." I stood in the rain, glaring at the two kids that conned me.

Plus blushed and offered a sheepish grin. Minus just shrugged. It was her way of saying 'come at me bro'.

I just sighed in defeat.

We continued walking in the rain. None of us even bothered to run.

I made sure to walk especially slowly. Just to be a bit of a sadist. The rain was doing a number on their ice cream. Both of them were struggling to protect their cones. Really they were just prolonging the inevitable.

Minus' ice cream was the first one to kick the proverbial bucket. If only it had been mint chocolate chip. It fell right off the cone and landed on the wet sidewalk. It gave me a bit of satisfaction. I'm a sick bastard. I stared at the ice cream on the ground. There was probably a ridiculous grin on my face.

Then, to my horror, it all ended rather anticlimactically. No one broke down into tears. Instead Plus silently consoled Minus by patting her shoulder. Then they began sharing Plus' ice cream. Thank Pesci it wasn't a Popsicle. That'd be too cliché.

I just stood there staring at them. "Kids, that's how disease is spread. Stop being cheap little shits and go buy another one." They defied me and instead continued. I could only sigh. I was done with them. I'd found them, now I was a bit tired of them. I needed to go relax by myself.

"I'll just be going now." I offered them a wave in dismissal as I turned away.

Plus rushed up to me and grabbed my arm. "Wait! Where are you going? Why can't we come?"

I offered a faux smile to her. "It's a place only for grownups." She pouted at me, refusing to release me from her grasp.

I looked to Minus for some form of guidance. She simply continued licking the ice cream cone. Wouldn't even look at me. Wasn't really sure what I'd been expecting from her.

Again I could do nothing but sigh in frustration. I felt older than I actually was. I'd never felt this way before. Was this the dreaded responsibility?

"Listen, I'll see you guys later. Just go home." Both of them stared at me. More sighing from my end. Hey, at least I was managing to strengthen my lungs somewhat. "I suppose you don't have a home."

They nodded in affirmation.

I just facepalmed. "Of course. Just my luck. Then where have you two been staying?"

Minus answered. "The hospital."

I blinked a few times. "Well then, go there." They both shook their heads in the negative. "What do you mean 'no'? It's where you've been staying. Go there." More shaking of the head. "We're really going to argue over this? Where else are you going to go?" They stared at me. My eye twitched in annoyance. "Don't you even think about it."

They started to do the puppy dog eyes.

"No."

Now they're quivering their lips at me.

"No."

Tears are forming in their eyes.

"I said no."

Plus is now begging on her knees. On the street. In the rain.

We're all getting soaked. A random couple with an umbrella is glaring at me for some reason.

Sigh. "Alright. Fuck it. Head back to my place, I'll meet you there later on." Plus immediately jumps up and hugs my side. I resist the urge to elbow her off. Minus is just nodding, content she got her way.

Plus gets off me and they make their way back home. Before I turn away to head off she turns back to me. "Thanks Mister!"

I just nod.

Part of me is concerned over the fact that I just let two little girls walk alone in the city. Especially since they're part of this Holy Grail War.

The rest of me ignores it. They're not really my problem. Besides, they've got that massive monster to back them up. They can handle themselves probably. And it feels like I've been conned by them. They used me to get free ice cream and now they're getting free room and board. College students back in the U.S. would be green with envy.

I walk randomly down the street with the Doors tune 'Alabama Song' playing in my head.

I end up at a random bar. It'd been a while since I'd had a drink.

It's a bit packed. I stumble out of the rain and walk up to the barkeeper. "One bourbon, one scotch, one beer." He nods at me and I take a seat as he gets the alcohol.

A few hours later, and after more than a few drinks, I start heading home. Or rather, I start stumbling my way home.

The rain's stopped by now. Miraculously I find my way back without accidentally getting hit by traffic. Or passing out.

It takes me a few tries to insert the key in the door's lock. Finally I end up doing so and open the door.

Maybe if I'd been just a bit more sober I would have felt that something was off. My house felt ominous.

"Guys, I'm back." My words were slurred but still somewhat understandable. The room was still dark so I turned the lights on.

In front of me was Plus. Laying on the ground. A pool of dried blood surrounding her.

I slowly walked to her. Then I bent down and glanced at her body. Three holes through her chest. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she'd been shot.

"Plus?" I tried to tell if she was still breathing. Hovering my palm over her mouth I noticed a slight breath of air leaving her lungs.

"M-m-mister?" Her voice was weak.

I could tell she was barely alive, at most she had maybe half an hour. And I couldn't do anything to help her. I had no magic to save her. Yet I still tried. I tried my best to access my prana. I just couldn't do it. I felt like a drained battery. "Where's Minus?"

Plus smiled at me. "S-s-she's gone."

"Dead?"

She blinked at me. "Yeah." I kneeled down next to her. "She was my servant."

This surprised me a bit. Though I'd suspected something had been up. The odds of there being two girls that looked exactly the same and both had prosthetic limbs was low. Then there's the fact that the only other possible servant for her was that monster and it seemed like something only capable of being summoned under the Beserker class. With the Beserker class already being taken by Rin's servant it made sense that the creature wasn't really a servant.

"She was my only friend." Plus started tearing up.

I stared into her eyes. Then I did something that shocked both of us. I grabbed her hand. While I clasped her artificial one within the palm of my own I continued to look her right in the eyes. "No, she was one of your only friends. Not your only friend."

"Mister?"

I offered her a sincere smile. Something that was rare for me. "Yeah, I'm your friend." She started tearing up a bit. Then she started sobbing. She started choking and coughing up blood.

I didn't know what to do so I simply sat there holding her hand. It made me feel helpless. "Who did this?"

Somehow she managed to respond. "I don't know. He sounded like you."

This made me pause for a moment. Had I done this? I didn't think so. I'd been at the bar. Then again, I was drunk. Though the timeframes didn't add up. Maybe someone recorded my voice. Either through the use of technology or magic. It was also possible that a servant got involved.

"It wasn't me was it?"

She managed to nod 'no'.

"Mister, I'm going to die aren't I?"

I didn't know what to say. What do you tell a little girl who's near the end? What do you tell anyone who asks such a question? All I could do was smile at her. She smiled back. She kept talking. I wanted to tell her to conserve her strength, but at this point we both knew it was pointless.

"I want to help you."

I simply squeezed her hand. "You don't need to."

She nodded 'no' again. "No I don't, but I want to. To thank you." All of a sudden her hand started glowing. A warm feeling flooded my body. Things in my head started clicking back into place. I felt rejuvenated. I finally felt relaxed. It felt like my magic circuits had been in shock, and now they were finally back to normal. Well, almost normal.

They still felt a bit weak. I doubted that I was fully fixed. I'd probably need to heal a bit more. Still, it made me smirk that I had a chance at being of some use yet again. It also gave me hope. I could do something, I might be able to heal Plus. I glanced down at her.

That's when I started laughing like a maniac.

She was gone.

Her eyes were still open, but she was completely still.

She looked like a doll.

I just kept laughing like a lunatic. Of course this is how things would end up.

Part of me wanted to refrain from closing her eyes. It rationalized that I didn't need any more of my fingerprints on her corpse. As cold as that sounds. I basically told that part of my brain to go to hell. My hand moved to close her eyes but then I hesitated. The corpse was staring at me.

I stared back into her eyes. I could see her last moments through them. One could almost say she looked content. A small smile was still on her face.

I managed to stifle the laughter to a chuckle. "So. This is how we end up." I stop kneeling and instead take a seat on the floor next to her.

Still staring into her eyes.

"Besides that sob story of yours, I hardly knew you. And you knew nothing about me." The laughter started back up for a moment. Then I managed to end it completely. "But this still makes me feel like shit."

I continued to stare at her in silence. "What happened to Minus? How did she die? Why couldn't she save you with that monster?" I ask these questions to no one in particular.

"Whoever did this wasn't an amateur. Maybe not a professional, but this wasn't this guy's first gig. They shot all the right spots. Just enough for you to live for a bit, so I'd see your last moments."

I start laughing again. "I'm no Liam Neeson but I'll find who did this." My eyes wandered over the holes in Plus' chest. "Question is, why'd they do it? For the war? Or was this just a personal thing? Maybe I'm dealing with a sick freak that just gets aroused killing kids."

Finally I closed Plus' eyes. Then I sat there for a moment more before I managed to push myself off the ground. "Whatever the case, whoever did this is going to die. It's only fair." I light a cigarette and take a long drag from it.

After exhaling the smoke I started to feel moisture on my cheeks. This caused me to glance up at the ceiling, with the thought that it must be leaking. There were no leaks. I felt my cheeks and realized the moisture was coming from my eyes. I was crying.

This only caused me to giggle a bit.

I had to get out of here. I'd go insane staying here with Plus. I took a step towards the door when I realized something felt off. "Wait. Why'd they kill her here? Why not when I was with her? Why not just kill me?"

That's when the door busted open. "Police! Freeze!" Three officers in riot gear rush through the door. All have handguns pointed at me.

I stand there with a slack-jawed expression. So that's why they did it here. "Hands in the air! You're under arrest!" I didn't move a muscle. In my head I was going through all the possible situations that could play out.

The strength behind my returned magic was questionable, so I couldn't take a risk and end up dead. I could attempt to run for the garage, but they probably had the place surrounded. Looks like I got the 'Go to Jail' card on the Monopoly game that is my life. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

I hesitatingly raised my hands above my head. They rushed me, practically tackling me to the ground. The cigarette falls out of my mouth.

Yet again I was handcuffed.

The frisking begins. During it they find the Pico and confiscate it as evidence. Along with all my other possessions.

Then they lead me outside and toss me into the back of a police car. This one actually had a barrier between me and the front seat. Looks like they upgraded just for me.

The ride to the police station was less than pleasant. The driver and his partner kept glaring at me. Of course they did. To them I was a child killer. At least they managed to keep their cool. They were more professional than the last two cops I'd ran into. I didn't even try to make conversation.

At the station I was thrown into my own personal jail cell. Daiyō kangoku or 'substitute prison'. I believe that's the name these cells go by. There's a pathetic excuse for a toilet against the right corner. It's one of those bidets. Briefly I remembered how I hated them so much I'd installed an average flush toilet in my house. A small cot is in the left. Other than that, the cell's empty.

Next to me was another guy in his own cell. He briefly glanced at me through the bars before quickly looking down. I ignored him.

Six hours later, and I'm escorted to the interrogation room.

Yes, six fucking hours. I counted it down.

They leave me in the interrogation room and walk out the door.

The interrogation room's even barer than the jail cell. All they have is the table in front of me, and three chairs. One of which I'm seated at. It's also really brightly lit. Probably because of the obvious one-way mirror on the wall. I stare directly into my reflection on the mirror and mouth out the phrase 'can you be any more obvious'.

About ten minutes later, at this point I said 'fuck it' to counting, two cops walk in. Both are in the standard police uniform. Both are pretty short. The one on my left is wide and the other one is skinny. We'll call the skinny one Slim, the wide one can be Jim. Just because I'm a bit hungry.

They don't introduce themselves. I don't introduce myself.

Instead I start the conversation with this piece of gold. "Goddammit, was the line at Mister Donut really that long?" They react by staring at me. They refuse to even dignify my one-liner with a response. "Well, looks like you two are those kind of cops. The kind that bleeds blue, but has a nose of brown. Must smell terrible shoving it up the captain's ass."

Jim smashes his fist against the table. Guess I hit the nail on the head. Remember how I described him as 'wide' and not 'fat'. This is because Jim looks like he could break my spine with his bare hands. So when Jim smashes his fist against the table, that table shakes a bit. I almost pity it.

"Shut up!" Well looks like he's the hot-headed bad cop. Guess that makes Slim the calm and collected good cop. As if to prove my point Slim places a hand on Jim's shoulder and shakes his head as a way of telling him to cool down.

"So, what's my resume?" Both of them glare at me.

Slim answers. "We haven't pressed charges yet."

I smirk at the guy. "You forgot to read me my Miranda rights too."

"This isn't America, gaijin." Jim's the one that answers.

My smirk grows. "Of course it isn't. If it was I'd probably have been shot." Both of them share a look. I continue. "Then again calling this place America would be a compliment." They both stiffen at this. But I'm not done.

"Think about it, wouldn't you rather be an imperialistic nation filled with corruption instead of the nation said imperialistic one made its bitch?" Jim's shaking in fury.

"What did it take to fuck you guys up again? Two bombs? One of them being labeled 'Little Boy'? It's been over seventy years and you're still fucked up. Just look at your porn industry." This causes them to react exactly how I planned. Both get understandable pissed. Jim actually tries to lunge for me while Slim holds him back.

The easiest way to upset guys like this is to insult their country. It's a simple task, for me. Since he brought up my country all I have to do is sink to his level. It's a low blow but it works.

"Fuck you!" Jim's now shouting at me in fury.

"Hey, no need for such hostility pal. I as much as anyone understands that America has its flaws. Why do you think I'm here?"

Jim's still lunging at me. Either he's a great actor worthy of an Oscar or else he's just an idiot. "I'd take tentacles over the Kardashians any day." He's continues struggling against Slim's hold.

"I'm an equal opportunity asshole buddy, I believe this whole world is seriously screwed up." He's still flailing around like an idiot. "Unlike you, with your moronic nationalism. Seriously pal, calm your tits. It was just a joke."

This causes him to push Slim off of him. He gets out of his chair and grabs at me. In response I smash both of handcuffed hands into his face. I even attempt to try some reinforcement, and fortunately I'm able of actually succeeding a bit. As such my fists hit him at roughly twice the force they normally would. His nose breaks, part of his skull is probably fractured.

It causes him to black out and collapse on the floor.

Cops immediately rush in.

I'm smashed to the ground and Jim's taken out of the room.

A few minutes later, after everything's cleared up, I've actually been secured to the chair. The chair is now bolted to the floor as well. Damn these people work fast.

"Shit you guys should have just gotten the straitjacket out." Slim's in the room with me now. He's the only one. "So, what am I being charged with?" He stands up. Then he grabs the chair Jim was sitting in. He props it against the door.

"They're no longer watching."

I start laughing at him. "Gosh golly gee willikers Batman, what're you going to do now?" He walks up and smashes my head against the table. That'll leave a mark.

"Woah, woah, woah. Listen here bub. You're obviously an amateur at this, so let me give you some pointers." He stares at me in confusion.

"One, never start with the head, it makes everything all fuzzy and the victim doesn't feel the next blow. Two, I believe that you're supposed to ask me a question first. But instead you ignore my question, don't ask a question of your own and smash my face into a table. Stay classy."

He's staring at me as if I'm a lunatic. "Oh wait I forgot the last piece of advice. Three, go fuck yourself!" He punches me hard in the face. Though it's nowhere near how hard I hit Jim.

"You want to know what we plan to charge you with. I'll tell you."

I start chuckling again. "Should have just said that in the beginning. Would have made everything a lot easier."

He glares at me as he reads off the list. "Seven counts of murder, in the first-degree. One against a minor no less. One count of attempted murder. Eleven counts of Grand Theft Auto. The most recent being the theft of a police cruiser and a large truck owned by a civilian."

"Hey, I paid that truck driver more than enough in compensation after hijacking his vehicle!"

He rolls his eyes at me. "Yes, I heard about that. Now let me continue. Four counts of aggravated assault. Actually make that five since you just assaulted an officer in front of me." Here's where I roll my eyes. "One count of unlawful possession of a firearm."

"Hey! That's my Second Amendment right!"

He glares at me. "This isn't America!"

My fake outrage fades away. I start smirking. "Gee, thanks for clearing that up again. I'd already forgotten. You know I can see a McDonald's sign from my cell?"

He ignores me. "One count of reckless endangerment of the public. This happening when you discharged your firearm into a crowd in the hopes of killing a female we've yet to identify. That was your count of attempted murder by the way."

I chuckle a bit. "Thanks for clearing that up sir. My puny brain couldn't comprehend that. That shot was in self-defense by the way."

He keeps listing my crimes. Not even acknowledging my claim. "Several violations of traffic laws. And finally there's a count of indecent exposure and two counts of disturbing the peace. That sound about right?"

I'd practically fallen asleep as he read off my transgressions against society. "I suppose, except that one count of first-degree murder. The one against the minor."

He just blinks.

I try and clarify. "The little girl who was in my house. I didn't kill her. But I fully intend to kill anyone related to her death."

More blinking. I've stumped the guy.

"So uh, I'd suggest adding at least three or four more counts of murder on that list. Soon as I get out of here I'm going straight back to work."

He starts laughing. "You? Getting out of here? Not for a long time pal. You'll be lucky if you don't get a life sentence with all the crap you've pulled. Best case scenario and you still don't get out until after I'm dead." He keeps laughing.

"Well we can make you dead sooner rather than later can't we?" I offer him a grin.

He glares at me. "You're a sick deluded fuck."

"And you're a cop."

"How is that an insult?"

"It isn't, I thought we were just listing off the obvious."

He keeps glaring at me.

"By the way, am I going to be tried as a minor? Considering I'm 18."

He starts laughing. "18? Cut the shit. We know who you really are. How old you really are. Everything about you."

I just sit there staring at him for a long time. "I want my one phone call."

He starts laughing again. "This isn't Hollywood."

"I want my one phone call." He keeps chuckling then he pulls out his cell phone and dials a number. I recognize the number. "You have to be fucking kidding me." Slim ignores me.

Then he gets up and puts the phone to my ear, holding it in place.

"Hello, Dante." It's the phone guy. No not the one in the haunted Chuck E. Cheese's. The voice on the other end of the payphone. I don't even reply to the guy.

"Here's how it is. You've been a bit too much of a concern to us. So we've decided to cut you loose."

I start chuckling. "I'm retired."

He starts laughing too. "No one ever fully retires. You've been too much of a problem."

Just when I thought I was out . . . they pull me back in.

My chuckle turns into a roar of laughter. "After all I've done, this is how it ends. Fucking brilliant. Who killed her?"

The line is silent for a moment. Then he responds. "Someone with more money and power than you."

"They paid you."

"As you Americans would say, it's a case of killing two birds with one stone." He doesn't answer it directly, but what he does say is enough of a confirmation.

"That saying has been around longer than America has."

"Regardless, it's in our benefit to get rid of you. Be happy we didn't kill you."

"Instead you'll throw me in a cell and toss away the key."

"Don't take this personally Dante. Just accept it."

I started chuckling. "Accept it? No. I won't accept it. I won't take this lying down."

"Then take it standing. I don't care what you do. Right now you're nothing."

"Sure."

"Oh and don't even try and weasel your way out of this. We've given as much information on you to the police as we've got. They know a lot about you, so you're not going to get off easy. You'll be tried as an adult."

"I'm 18."

He started laughing again. "You still telling yourself that? Listen, we found a decent amount of info on you. Stop lying to yourself."

"I'm not lying."

The line's silent again. "You're delusional. Well, look on the bright side. You won't be getting charged for underage drinking or smoking."

I just ignored him. I was running through the memories in my head. Trying to piece together the truth. I went through the part where I killed my dog. All the punishments. My youth. The breakout. It all started to feel fuzzy. I didn't understand it.

"I'll help you out. It's only fair, I suppose. One last favor." I didn't respond. "Your real name is Thomas Victors. It was stupid of you to keep your actual ID on you. Even with all those fakes. You're 25 going on 26."

"What?"

"Yeah, I was a bit confused too, I thought you were older. You ever look in a mirror?"

"What the fuck?"

"Yeah, I was thinking you were at least 30. You got that look about you."

"Again, what the fuck?"

"Hell, come up with some interesting responses at least. Aren't you the guy with the witty comebacks?"

I sincerely laughed at that.

"Apparently you were a bit of a bore most of your life. Joined up with the right people and went by the idiotic alias of 'Tommy Victory' for some time. Seriously, what the hell kind of name is that?"

I kept laughing.

"What the fuck is so funny you moron? Can't you understand that you're anonymity is gone? Your identity is revealed dipshit, you're going to jail and there's nothing you can do about it."

I was still laughing. Slim looked a bit unnerved. I had to pause to catch my breath. Then I answered him. "I'm laughing because you're such a fucking joke."

He was quiet. I kept talking. "You think you know me? Good for you. You know what's great? I know something about you. Guess that makes us friends."

"You have no idea as to who I am."

"I don't? You're a 43 year old man. During the day you work a simple office job, and that's your cover story." There's dead silence on the other line.

"You have a wife named Miku, and two kids. One boy, one girl. The boy's name is Kirito. I bet he's a whiny bitch. The girl's name is Sakura. Real original of you to name her that. Your name's Gurēto Uragiri. With a name like that I wasn't really going to trust you. I may be an idiot like you say, but there's a line of stupidity even I won't cross."

I hear some semblance of a gasp from his end. "Want to know your address and phone number too? Or should I just start talking about your 22 year old mistress?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Really should watch where you do certain things. The people who paid you may have more money and power than me. But you know what? I get by just fine on what I do have."

He hangs up. He'll be nervous for a while and then he'll calm himself down by telling himself that I won't ever get near him. He'll forget that I don't need to go near him. His problem was having too many enemies and not enough friends.

My lips were loose enough to tell a few people what I knew. For the right amount of cash. Just like he sold me out. No hard feelings friend. Nothing personal. It was business, but it was my pleasure to conduct said business.

Slim puts his phone back in his pocket. Then he goes to the door. He leaves and a few other cops show up to escort me to my cell.

I'm tossed in and the door slams shut behind me. My jail buddy in the cell next to mine speaks up. "So, why're you here?" I looked at the guy for a moment. He was a lanky guy, looked a bit older than me.

"What's your name pal?"

He scratched his cheek before answering. "Dorobō. What's yours?" Of course this wasn't his real name. Just an alias. Just like me.

"Dante. And to answer your first question," at this I broke out in a big grin "I'm here just because I told a few too many jokes."

He blinked a few times and didn't answer. Then he broke out in a fit of laughter.

"What about you? What's your crime against society?"

He managed to stop laughing. Then he wiped a tear from his eye. "I tried to rob some convenience store. Needed to make a quick buck and didn't have a job."

I nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. Now Mr. Dorobō, on to our current predicament. There must be some way out of here."

"No reason to get excited. This place's security is pretty high." He got my reference and played along with it. I liked this guy.

"How many guys do they have jailed here?"

"There are many here among us. Probably at least a dozen. They can do what they want here to get a confession."

I smiled at him. "Dorobō this is not our fate."

He gave me a puzzled look. "Let's not talk falsely now. It's getting late. I'm gonna try and go to sleep." He sat down at his cot and laid down. It only took a few moments before I heard soft snores from him.

I started to get to work. The cops had removed my cuffs so I could freely move my hands. I tried to channel the prana in my body. Using my magic circuits I attempted to project something. It was difficult. Plus had managed to help me, but I wasn't perfectly fixed yet. But it was enough to do what I needed to do.

After an hour or so I'd projected the necessary components.

A long pipe that would work as a barrel. A second, shorter and wider pipe would serve as the breech. The breech itself was composed of two parts, the tube and the end cap. There was a point inside the end cap that would serve as the firing pin. Finally I'd managed to form a twelve gauge shotgun shell of double-aught buck.

I loaded the shell into the barrel. Then I started screaming. "Hey! Pigs! Share your donuts with me! I'm really hungry!" I kept shouting for about ten minutes. Throughout it Dorobō remained asleep.

Eventually a cop showed up to check on me. "What the hell is the matter?!"

"My stomach hurts. The bad man said he'd make the voice go away. He replaced them with flashing lights. Want to see?"

The guard sneered at me so I started to fake moans of pain. Then I fell to my knees. The man sighed then opened the cell door.

Immediately I pulled my improvised shotgun on him. Intentionally I aim low, in the hopes of not killing the guy. I slide the barrel into the breech and the shell's primer smashed against the firing pin. The 'gun' went off. Its breech flew backwards propelled by Newton's first law and smacked against the wall.

The cop in front of me was hit in his legs by the shot. He fell to the ground screaming. The noise this caused woke up my jail buddy. Who immediately stood up and rushed to his cell door.

"Hey man, you're going to help me aren't ya?!"

I rushed to the downed cop and whacked him in the head with the pipe, knocking him out cold. There was a lot of blood coming from him. Acting quickly I took my shirt off and started ripping it in stripes, then I tied them around the largest wounds on him to stop the bleeding.

Not knowing what else to do I simply pilfered the jail key from him. He had a Taser on him so I took that too. I opened the other guy's cell.

"Of course, a fan of Jimi Hendrix is a friend of mine."

He gave me a puzzled look. "Jimi Hendrix? Who's that?"

My jaw dropped. "The song reference?"

A look of realization crossed his face. "Oh, I thought you were trying to reference Bob Dylan."

"Close enough I suppose. Here." I handed him the Taser. "Use this if you need to."

He accepted it. "I don't know how you did all of that man, but I don't really care at this point."

"Good, now, I'm going to free all the others."

His expression turned to one of shock. "How the hell are you going to do that?"

I smirked at him. "I got my ways. Head out of here. Run and don't look back."

He didn't need to be told twice. He rushed out of the room.

"Now, time for me to get to work."

There were shouts from the hallway in front of me, followed by the pop of the Taser firing and some screaming.

"The exit's the other way you moron!" Dorobō runs past me and rushes away. I charge out the way he just came from. There's a cop convulsing on the ground. I quickly rush up to him and handcuff him. He can barely even struggle against me.

That done I rush away, searching through all the rooms as I do so. It takes a moment but I come across the room I'm looking for. Another set of jail cells.

The criminals on the other side quickly stand up when I run in. Then they start shaking the bars to get my attention. I don't respond to them, instead I rush to the cell doors and start unlocking them all. "The exit's that way!" I point to the same direction I point before.

They rush off without even saying 'thanks'. There's about a dozen of them, so with the ruckus they're causing my options at stealth are gone. Then again the second I fired a shotgun off I was kind of alerting the whole place to my escape attempt. Even now I heard screams and shouts from the entire building.

I ran out, running the opposite direction of where I'd sent them, and started looking for one of two places. Either the armory or the evidence room. Hopefully they'd have one of these rooms close by.

A cop saw me running and raised a Taser at me. I ducked into a room and he charged towards me. He came around the corner rather alert but I still managed to get the drop on him. I hit the weapon out of his hands with the barrel of my makeshift gun. Then I smashed the pipe right into his face. This caused him to fall on his ass completely dazed. I followed this up with a kick right to the jaw. He blacked out from the blow.

I picked up his Taser and a set of keys he had and made my way out of the room. A few doors down and I got lucky. Here I found the evidence room. I opened the locked door with one of the keys I got from the last cop. He actually had a Hello Kitty keychain. I didn't question it and instead I started pillaging through things looking for my name.

I found a cardboard box labeled 'Thomas Victors' and dumped it out on the floor. There was my Pico, the bullets, my MP3 player, a cheap lighter, a pack of cigarettes, my wallet, and some pictures.

I pocketed all of it except the lighter, and started going through the pictures. They were of my house, the crime scene. There were a few other photos from various other scenes I'd been involved with, but the ones of my house were the most important. There were several ones of Plus, taken from various angles. I pocketed one. It was the one with the least amount of blood in the frame. She almost looked asleep.

After doing so I clicked the lighter on and started setting the rest aflame. Pretty soon I had a decent fire so I started spreading it. I knocked down shelves of other evidence and they were quickly added to the rest of the fire. The flames were spreading and consuming everything.

All I needed was for my evidence to be gone. It didn't take long before it was ash. Then the fire alarm went off. Followed by the sprinkler system. The water tickled my bare back.

I rushed out of the room and towards the direction my other inmates had escaped. On the way I dropped my makeshift gun and drew the Pico. The slide was racked, it had been a pain to do so. The safety was off. So I had it primed to fire.

There was shouting coming from close by so I slowed down. Peeking around a corner I saw that many of the guys I had freed were on the ground handcuffed. A few had been tased. I also saw Dorobō. He had a bullet hole in his leg, looks like he got his hands on a firearm of his own so they shot him. The place was crawling with cops. I saw Slim among them.

I didn't have much choice in what I was going to do. I popped off a shot on the closest one. It hit him in the stomach and he fell to the ground. Immediately the other officers reacted. Some drew Tasers. Some dove for cover.

Slim drew a pistol and fired in my direction. I ducked behind the corner. Then I peeked back at him and shot him in the shoulder. He grasped the wound but stayed standing. His gun was still aimed at me. I fired a second shot into his leg and he fell from the strain. Another cop shot his Taser at me. I got behind the corner and the darts whizzed by. I shot him in the groin. Almost felt bad for the guy.

My fifth shot went into another officer's hip, knocking him to the ground. The last shot I had went into a cop's elbow, which caused him to drop his Taser. The visibly empty chamber of my gun signaled that I was out of ammunition. Dorobō took this as a sign and tacked another cop. Pesci bless him. His distraction gave me time to rush past all of them.

A few Taser darts shot past me but I managed to dodge them. I ran to Slim. I grabbed the gun off of him. Subconsciously I recognized it as a Glock. I shot a few shots at the general direction of the other officers as I made my escape. In doing so I made a mistake.

I hesitated while firing upon them. Which made me a sitting duck. Which is why a pair of Taser darts ended up lodged into my bare chest. Should have kept that shirt on. Guess they didn't want to see my beautiful pectoral muscles that didn't exist. They were probably just jelly. (*Insert donut joke at expense of cops.)

Electricity was flowing throughout my body. I don't know how I did the next thing I did. Perhaps it was because adrenaline was flowing through my veins. Perhaps it was sheer willpower that allowed me to do it, since now I had a reason for fighting. Or maybe it was just the fact that I was kind of pissed over this day in general.

Whatever it was that allowed me to do so is unimportant. What I did is. I grabbed the darts with my hand and ripped them out of my flesh. After doing so I started to repeatedly scream "**I'VE GOT THE POWER!**"

Now imagine this from the view of the police. A shirtless white man had just gotten into a gunfight with you. He did this in your police station after breaking out of your jail and freeing all of your prisoners. Then this man managed to take around fifty thousand volts of electricity from one of your weapons, only to start screaming at you the lyrics of a song that was almost thirty years old. Overall I'd conclude that this wasn't a good day in their careers as protectors of the public. At least it'd be a good story to tell the kids at home.

I ran out of the police station and as fast as possible to the nearest police cruiser in their parking lot. I smashed the window open and unlocked the door. A few officers were trying to follow me so I shot at them in an attempt at suppressing them. It managed to hold them off since they rushed back into the station.

Then I aimed my sights on the various other police cars in the parking lot. My bullets went into their tires in an attempt at slowing them down in their imminent pursuit of me. I got in the car and started attempting to hotwire the car. It took a while but the car started and I gunned it reverse.

A few officers ran for me, but I put the car in drive and zoomed off down the road to make my escape. Now, on to the quest to find help. If there were ever a time in which I needed it, it was now.

* * *

**Overall I felt a bit iffy with this chapter. For multiple reasons. I killed off another character, gave Dante his powers back to a lesser extent, and probably made a botched attempt at properly portraying the Japanese law enforcement. I did some research on the subject of police in Japan but didn't find nearly enough information so I'm very clearly not an expert on their procedure. I'd appreciate someone correcting any mistakes I made. Also, I just thought I'd make it clear that I have nothing against the police. This isn't a self-insert, Dante's not me, he's just a fictional character I made. Oh and I've been thinking of changing the cover image of this story. Problem is I don't have another image in mind. I'm terrible at art. So I'd really appreciate anyone that'd be willing to whip up something. You'd get full credit, a shout-out, etc. Plus I'd be eternally grateful. Thanks for everything. Especially the reviews they help motivate me in writing this. I'm grateful for all the support.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I'm a lazy bastard. It's been what, almost two months? Still haven't fixed the errors. Going to get on that after posting this chapter. If it wasn't obvious before, it's definitely obvious now. There's now conceivable way that I could own the Fate series. I don't have the work ethic to do so. **

* * *

**Chapter 12- Shirtless and Scorched**

For some reason I started to feel a bit tired. I wasn't exhausted. I just felt noticeably less energetic. Like something was leeching off of me. Maybe it was everything finally catching up to me.

I couldn't do anything about it, so I just drove as fast as I could away from the police station. I didn't hear any sirens following me. Probably because all their cars had holes in their tires. Hopefully this would mean I'd actually have a chance at escaping.

I drove with the sirens and lights on. Cars moved out of the way for me. I kept driving. I had to get rid of this vehicle.

Good thing I had an idea as to what I'd do with it.

* * *

I ended up at my house. Police tape was everywhere.

There was a cop car out front.

This meant one of two things.

Either he was simply watching over the crime scene in case there was evidence still being collected or processed. Or else the cops at the station had managed to get the word out that I'd escaped and he was sitting here waiting for me.

Really it didn't matter at this point.

I fastened my seatbelt. Then I stepped on the gas pedal. One police cruiser rammed into another.

I t-boned him.

For a moment everything seem to be in slow motion. I could see the shock in his eyes. The pieces of debris flying around. Then it was over. His head had smashed into the driver side's window. It was made out of that acrylic glass, so it didn't crack or shatter. Instead he'd simply bounced off of it, leaving a smear of blood on it.

My airbag had gone off. It had practically given me a concussion. I tried my best to heal it with magic. Which didn't go so well considering that even with Plus' sacrifice I couldn't muster my full strength. I still wasn't fully fixed up, but I managed to stop the migraine that would probably have shown up otherwise. If I avoided going to sleep in the next few hours I'd probably be fine. Probably. There was also the chance that I'd slip into a coma if I did go to sleep.

I unfastened my seatbelt. Then I started reloading the magazine of my Pico. After doing so I inserted the mag into the pistol and racked the slide to chamber a round. I hit the safety. Then I checked the Glock. I'd tossed it on the passenger seat when I'd first got in the car. The car crash had flung it on the floor. I checked it over. Everything seemed alright.

I got out of the car, carrying both handguns Mexican style in my pants. Some shrapnel had cut me up. Mainly because I still didn't have a shirt. My face was bleeding a bit because of the airbag's impact, but overall I was in better shape than the cop.

It didn't take more than a glance to tell that he'd died. The first. Great. Now I was a cop-killer. They'd definitely hunt me down now. I opened his car door. His corpse fell out. I pushed him back in. His eyes were still open. Blood was all over him. His head looked like a squashed grape. I closed his eyes.

I felt terrible. He wasn't some nameless thug. He was a cop. I'd shot them without hesitating, but even when I did that I tried to not kill them. I felt guilt. Maybe I should have just shot him. Or pushed my luck by sneaking up to his car. There were a dozen different ways I could have taken care of him. Yet I chose the easiest. The most straightforward. The lazy choice. I didn't even need to get out of the car.

I patted the man's shoulder. I didn't hate the police. My insults against them weren't really against them. It wasn't personal. He was a grunt just like me. My problem was with the higher-ups. The guys pulling the strings. Poor guy got the heat. Just by doing his job.

"You did a good job sir. Honorable of you. Shame you had to die at the hands of one with no honor. Pesci willing, if there's a heaven you're in it." I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Then I searched him. I wasn't willing to take his clothes. Even if it meant I would remain shirtless by choosing not to do so. He had a Taser. But no handgun. I even popped his trunk in the hopes of finding a gun. Nothing. Then I remembered the trunk of my own car. I did the same and still no luck. The thought that this man hadn't even had a means of lethally taking me down made that lump rise back in my throat. This time I forced it down for good.

It all led to the birth of something I hadn't had in a while.

Doubt.

What if I hadn't just rammed him out of necessity or laziness? What if I'd done it for the thrill? The adrenaline rush of a high speed collision. Is this the type of person I was? This selfish desire of mine. This search for things to keep me amused. It didn't matter who got hurt. It didn't matter if I got hurt. Was this the point Saber had been trying to make?

I couldn't think like that. I had to push those thoughts out. They'd destroy me. I was only sane by being insane. If I tried to think of things like morality I'd break.

Holding the Taser didn't help. Just handling it felt weird. It felt like I had a piece of the cop's soul. Just holding the grip made me feel like I had an understanding as to what type of man he was. Strange.

Why was I thinking about this? It has to be the guilt speaking. Was this what it felt like to have a conscience? No. It can't be that. I couldn't let it be that. It was probably just indigestion.

I holstered the Taser in my pants alongside the two handguns. Things were starting to get crowded.

At this point I realized that I'd probably need to hurry. Someone had probably seen the car crash. If not they'd have to have heard it. I went back to his car. I unscrewed the cap to his gas tank and tossed it aside. Then I did the same for my car.

After that I made my way to my house. I ripped the police tape off the door and kicked it in.

The first thing I did was grab a beer out of the fridge. I downed it all in a single chug. Then I hurled the bottle against the wall. I chugged another one after it. That bottle just dropped to the floor. It clinked against the tile and rolled away.

I walked towards the garage. On the walk to there I hesitated in front of the stereo. It felt like I needed the proper motivation to do this. Even if this place wasn't really that homey to me. I turned on the stereo. The Talking Heads started playing. It was the song 'Burning down the House'. How appropriate.

I went in the garage and got the spare gas can I'd used with my old car. It was a ten gallon one. Around forty liters. I started pouring it around the house. After finishing with that I went to the toilet room.

Flushing the toilet seven times rapidly in a row led to a special surprise. The tiles right in front of the toilet popped open slightly. I lifted them up to find two briefcases. I opened them to reveal the cash inside.

This was pretty cliché of me to do something like this. At least it wasn't as bad as the fake bookcase. Though there was always the chance that some idiot would clog the toilet and start rapidly flushing it. . . .

Dammit, I didn't think about that when I set this up.

I took the two cases and walked out of the room. Then I went and got a metal coat hanger. I also pocketed a roll of masking tape. Before I left I remembered something. Well two things. One being the old knife in the attic.

I climbed the stairs again. Then I went to the attic and got the knife. It was the same as always. Rusted yet somehow still sharp enough to cut. I don't even know why I was bringing it with me. Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was because I felt it was related to my past. A past that I was uncertain of with all the information I got from the phone guy. I pocketed the blade.

The second thing was also for nostalgia's sake. The leather jacket of my teacher. If only it was red. I could hunt demons if it were. Instead it was white, an unusual color for such a coat. My teacher had been a strange man. I put the jacket on.

I still needed a shirt so I went in my bedroom. Unfortunately it seemed most of my clothing was dirty. Of course I'd forget to do the laundry. "Dammit. I'm not the Situation. I like shirts." Since I didn't really want to get arrested while doing laundry, I gave up on the idea of wearing a shirt and left the room.

I pocketed a few cheap lighters on my way out. As well as the briefcases, one in each hand. The coat hanger was held by my mouth.

Right before leaving I put the cases and hanger down and started one of the lighters. Then I placed its flame against the floor. It started to spread thanks to the gasoline. I tossed the lighter inside and closed the door behind me. The Talking Heads were still blaring through the stereo's speakers.

The cases were picked up again with the hanger and I walked to the two police cars. I used the rusted knife to cut a piece of fabric off the cop. I ripped the clothing in half. Then I broke the hanger and bent it straight. Using it I shoved a piece of the cloth into the police car's gas tank and let it soak up some gas. Then I pulled it out and covered the tank up with the tape. I placed the soaked fabric on top. I repeated the process with the second cop car. Then I lit it and quickly rushed to the first car to light its cloth aflame again. After that I picked up the briefcases and ran away as quickly as possible.

It didn't take long for both cars to burst into flames. It was quite a sight with my house burning in the background. Chigurh would be proud. I stood there for a moment, saluting my burning house. It was a regular Viking funeral.

That's when I heard the sirens. This managed to spur me forward. I picked up the suitcases. The threat of capture gave me an incentive to get out of there. The burned building was no longer my house, and even when it was, it was never my home. Still kind of sucked that I didn't have a shirt.

I wandered to the convenience store that I frequented. The place was closed.

Not wanting to aimlessly walk the streets I decided my best course of action would be a simple case of breaking and entering. I shattered the glass door with the grip of the Glock. Then I slipped my hand in and unlocked the door. There was probably a silent alarm going off so I needed to work fast.

I went to the payphone and inserted some spare change. Hopefully it'd let me call out of country. I dialed a different number than usual. Mainly because the usual guy had betrayed me. Fortunately this new guy wasn't tied to the old phone guy in any way.

The other line picked up. "Hello?" I recognized the voice. It was that of an older man. Looks like I still remembered the number.

"Is this Jake from State Farm?"

The other line was quiet for a moment. Then there was a long sigh. "Dante."

"Are you wearing khakis Jake?"

He offered a dry chuckle. "No. I'm wearing a suit."

"Well it's good to hear that you have a sense of style."

"What do you want?"

I paused for a moment as I thought about exactly what I wanted. "Well, a lot of things."

"Don't we all?" I laughed at this.

"But I'll settle for some information."

"Of course. You wouldn't call someone like me otherwise. What do you want to know?"

"Well for starters I'd like to know the current location of Rin Tohsaka. I know she's in Japan right now. Specifically Fuyuki City. I want an exact address."

He didn't even hesitate. He just started asking more questions. Which is why I'd preferred the other guy over him. "The blonde terrorist?"

"Yup."

"The one that's been a major player in that so-called Resistance?"

"Yup."

"The group fighting to end the plutocracy?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care where she is?"

"It's personal. You can find her right?"

"Yeah, it'll be easy enough. She kind of stands out in Japan. Being blonde and all."

"You'd be surprised as to how many blondes I've met in this country."

"Would I? Now, is there any particular reason you chose to call me over the usual 'gentlemen' you associate with?"

"Not really."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he practically started whispering. "What kind of trouble are you in?"

"I'm not in any trouble."

His tone got a bit angry. "Don't bullshit me Dante, I'm not an idiot. What happened?" I sighed. It was like dealing with a strict mother.

"I made some friends. Then I got setup. They got killed."

It was completely silent on the other end. I could tell he was processing this.

"Those who were supposed to be my friends betrayed me. The cops showed up. You get where this is going?"

"Yeah. So you broke out and are on the run." It wasn't a question. He had a good idea as to what went down. At least he was smart enough to catch on quick. "Dante."

"Yeah?"

"I'll do all that I can to help. It'll be pro bono work. I'll consider it my good deed for the year."

I exhaled in relief. "Thanks Jake."

"Are you somewhere safe?" I looked around the convenience store. I had no idea how long it would take them to respond. Probably not that long considering they'd already been showing up at my house and I'd been talking for a bit. I didn't relish the thought of having a last stand in a konbini.

"No. The cops are probably coming any minute now."

He offered a nervous chuckle. "Really want to put pressure on me, don't you?"

"How long is this going to take?"

"Not long. She's probably staying at a hotel. The database will have the guests. Though she probably put a fake name. In that case I can use the security and traffic cameras around the city. Fuyuki, right?"

"Yeah."

"Give me a second. All I have to do is match a photo of her to someone in the crowd."

For a minute I waited in agonizing silence. I was getting more paranoid by the second, and had considered hanging up and fleeing. But I managed to push those thoughts off and wait.

"Got her."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Here's the address." After listening to his information I sighed in relief. I knew the place she was at.

"Thanks Jake."

He chuckled without humor. "Don't mention it. Be careful Dante." The line went dead as he hung up.

I placed the phone back where it belonged and walked to the cashier's counter where I placed several ten thousand yen notes. More than enough to cover the cost of the damage I'd caused.

Now, time to find those three stooges.

* * *

An hour later.

Finally I'm here. It's your basic Hilton hotel.

I'd walked the past hour on foot.

Shirtless.

It was a miracle no one suspected anything. I was expecting the cops to be called. Or that they would at least stumble upon me by chance.

I entered the entrance of the hotel and walked up to the front desk. A young woman at the front desk immediately pointed at a sign that said 'No shirt, No shoes, No service'.

"Come on, I have a jacket. What if I zip it up?" She shook her head 'no' and pointed at the sign again. This chick was just giving me a hard time for no damn reason. "What about pants?"

She raised an eyebrow at this. "Excuse me?"

I simply shrugged and started taking my pants off. The woman started to blush. "Sir, I'm going to call the police!"

I started chuckling at her. "Wouldn't be the first time, lady." I started to put my arms in the pants legs. "This good enough for you?"

She was trying to hide behind the counter. "Sir? I'm going to call the police."

I simply sighed at this. "Everyone's so serious. Never getting the joke. I put my pants back on and look at her under the counter. "All I want to know is where one of your guests are staying."

She pointed at the sign again.

At this I raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? We're going to do this song and dance again?"

She slowly nodded.

"Well I do have shoes."

"Sir."

"Please, just help me out."

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I sighed at this. "Fine, then be that way." I put a briefcase on the counter. "How much?"

"Sir?"

"How much?"

"What?"

"Fifty thousand yen? That sound good?"

She stared at me in shock. "Excuse me? I don't do that kind of work."

I started laughing at her. "Seriously? I asked you a question, you were going to kick me out, I offer money and you assume I want sex? Really? That's how your mind works."

She started blushing at this. "N-n-no."

"Like I'd pay that much for sex with you." She looked a bit offended at this but I ignored her. "Listen, I give you this money and you turn a blind eye on that policy of yours. Believe me if I had a shirt I'd be wearing it, and I'm a bit short on time or else I'd go shopping for one."

"Sir, I can't do that. There's cameras. I'll get fired."

I glanced up at the security cameras. "Don't worry Jake's taken care of them."

She blinked. "Who?"

I smiled at her. "A friend of mine. Trust me, it'll be fine." I held the money out in front of her. She hesitated for a long time. But when I started waggling it in her face she caved and nervously took it from me.

"Ok, now, on to the next matter at hand."

"I want two hundred thousand."

I busted out into laughter. She cowered in fear behind the desk. "Holy shit! You learn fast." I took the money out of the briefcase and held it out for her. She timidly got up and snatched it from my hand. "Count it." She jumped a bit at the serious tone of my voice. Then she did what I said. "Now, about that guest."

A few minutes later and I was on the eight floor. I knocked on the room I'd been sent to. My finger was covering the peephole. It'd been easy for the woman at the front desk to figure out who I'd been looking for. Jake was right, there weren't many blondes around here. Especially blonde twin tails.

"Who is it?" It was Rin's voice. If she had any sense she had some sort of weapon drawn, aiming it at the door.

In my left hand I was carrying both briefcases. It was a bit difficult to keep a grip on them. In my right hand I had the Glock I'd got off the cop. It was a fourth generation Glock 17. Chambered in 9mm. The same type that the 92A1 used. 9x19mm Parabellum. I'd checked it on the walk here and found that it only had nine rounds left in its magazine. Out of the seventeen that it could hold.

Suppose I only needed one round in this situation. I was fully prepared to put her down if she did something dumb. I didn't come here to find her. I came here to find Saber. I reinforced my leg. It took a bit longer than usual. Too long. I could tell that she was starting to get suspicious.

She called out to me a second time. In the best high pitched voice I could muster, I responded with "Room service."

"I didn't order any."

Well, fuck you too then. Screw this, I'm just kicking the door open. The chain that she'd been hoping to hold it shut was ripped off the wall as the door hit her. She fell to her ass on the ground. I rushed in, handgun pointing at her, and quietly close the door behind me.

Dropping the briefcases, I bolted the door and stepped on her hand. She was grasping a kunai. Underneath my boot though she had no choice but to release it. I kicked it away from her, idly keeping the Glock trained on her.

At this moment a sword was pressed against my throat. I continued to look at Rin. "Really? A kunai? Starting to think you're Naruto?"

She glares at me. Then she starts blushing. "Why…why are you shirtless?!"

I ignored her question and looked up at the wielder of the sword. Saber stood in front of me. We stared into each other's' eyes. It took her a second before she processed who I was. The sword moved away from me.

"Saber! He's got a gun!"

Saber glanced at the Glock, but didn't react. "Praetor?"

"Why are you still calling me that?"

She ignores my question. "Put the weapon away." Wordlessly, I hit the safety on it and then holstered it.

Then I addressed Rin. "I suggest getting one yourself. Unless you think you can cross the distance it would take to stab me in an actual fight." She made a 'humph' sound at this. I offered my hand to help her up. She refused at first. Then she relented and allowed me to pull her up. "Where's Berserker?"

"Answer my question first!" I glanced at Rin.

"Are you blushing? Because I'm shirtless?" She starts furiously shaking her head 'no'. "What's your problem? You going to pass out from embarrassment?"

She opens her mouth to yell at me, but Saber interrupts. "Praetor, why are you shirtless?" I turned my attention to her.

"Why does it matter? I mean, it's not like I have the abs of Adonis or anything. Mine look more like James Dean's." Rin is gasping like a fish out of water. I start laughing.

"Stop laughing at me!"

"I wasn't. I was just thinking about how the only six pack I have is the one in the fridge."

Saber frowns at this. "It seems you have not really changed much Praetor. Why are you here?"

I look her right in the eye. "I need your help." The room become eerily quiet. Then the sound of munching shatters it.

Berserker's sitting down and eating. "Well that answers my question."

Berserker finally notices that I'm there. "Hi Pig!" She waves enthusiastically. Then she goes back to eating whatever it is she is eating. Looks like sushi or something. The way she eats is fascinating. She's extremely graceful. It's kind of strange considering who she is.

"Praetor." Saber has to snap me back to the matter at hand.

"Yeah?"

"You need my help?"

I start rubbing the back of my head. "Don't remind me." I offer a small smirk. She opens her mouth in shock. Rin starts slowly inching away. "Where are you going?" My comment at her obvious attempt to leave makes her jump in surprise.

"Uh . . . nowhere?"

I glare at her. "I'm not going to explain myself more than once. So if you go you won't hear what I have to say." She stops moving. "Call Berserker over." She does so without question. Berserker ignores her so Saber has to physically drag her over. I take a seat on the floor. All of them stare down at me.

"Sit my children. For Daddy Dante has a story to tell." That comment results in a trio of death stares. They pull up chairs though. A set of basic wooden ones. I smirk in Rin's direction. "I can't believe you started blushing. Have you never seen a shirtless man?" She mumbles a few insults my way. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I said, 'You're an idiot.'"

"Seems like you said a lot more than just that."

"Just tell your story. And tell me how you found out I was here."

"You're a blonde girl with twin tails in Japan. How do you think I found you?"

Her eye twitches a bit. "Tell your story."

Saber's staring at me intently. It's starting to creep me out. I feel like I'm being objectified. Berserker's hardly acknowledging us. Instead she continues to eat. Yet I'm the pig. "Do you guys want the long or short version?"

Saber answers, her tone serious. "All of it."

My response is a sad smile. Then I tell my tale.

I explained what had happened to me since we'd last seen each other.

Almost everything was shared, from my introduction to Assassin to how I slowly got to know the Alices before the setup occurred. I did leave out the part about me getting arrested, breaking out of jail, and setting my own house on fire. It seemed like it might cause some problems with my relationship with them.

Especially since I probably could only negotiate with Rin on the grounds that I had a safe haven for her, and while I still had a backup plan it wasn't going to be nearly as nice as my house.

We all sat there for a moment. In silence. Except for Berserker. She kept eating. Saber looked like she was about to punch her.

"This 'Plus' was a master?" Rin asks the question.

I nod in affirmation. "Her real name was Alice. I'm thinking she was the master of Caster. That rhymes by the way." She ignored the last part.

Saber speaks up. "What makes you think her servant was Caster?"

"Well, it's not Saber or Berserker. Lancer tried to kill me and he was an old dude. You and I killed Rider. And I met Assassin, he's an Asian ginger." I paused after that. To let Assassin's hair color set in. Hoping for them to chuckle at his expense. Instead they blinked at me like I was an idiot. Except for Berserker, she just kept eating. She was the epitome of ignorance being bliss.

Saber breaks the awkward silence. "That only leaves Archer and Caster."

I nod. "It sounds like the master who helped me out must have Archer as his servant."

"So all servants are accounted for."

Rin nods. "And two, possibly three, are dead."

"So there's only five left." Saber frowns at this.

I glance at Rin. "Did you kill her?"

She looks offended at this. "No! Of course not! Why would you assume that?!"

I kept my best poker face. "She's an enemy servant. You've had Berserker follow me. You could have easily done it."

She looks visibly angry. "You break in my room to accuse me?! I wouldn't kill a child!"

At this my stoic expression broke. I smiled at her. "Of course you wouldn't. You couldn't even if you wanted to."

Saber raises an eyebrow at this. Rin glares at me.

I happily patted her on the back. "You're too good to be in this war."

At this she looked at me in confusion. Unsure whether I was complimenting her or not. Saber smiles at Rin, as if she's agreeing with what I said.

I ruin the bonding moment with my next sentence. "No wonder you're a terrible terrorist!" Her anger showed up again. Saber facepalms. "I'm sorry should I use the politically correct term? You're a terrible freedom fighter too!"

A fist smashes into my stomach. "Shut up you idiot!"

I hardly react to it. I'm used to the punishment by now. "You just love to use 'baka' whenever possible don't you? The tsun is strong with this one."

She looks like she's about to punch me again when Berserker speaks up. "Yeah, Rin's just that way." Everyone gasps at her sudden entrance into the conversation. We'd assumed she'd ignored it. She just keeps eating. Well at least she could sort of multitask.

"Praetor. What do you need my help with?"

I stared at her, a bit confused. "Isn't it obvious? To get the guy who killed them."

She appeared confused. "What? Why?" I just shrugged. That appeared to upset her a bit. "You have no reason? I was right, you have not changed."

I laughed a little at this. "What? You expect me to say I'm doing it to bring the guy to justice? No, at most you could call it revenge."

Saber glares at me. "Will this solve anything?"

"What?"

"Revenge. Will it solve anything? It won't bring them back." She clenchs her fists.

I started laughing at her. "Of course it won't. They're dead."

Rin butts in. Her tone full of sorrow for some reason. "Then what's the point?"

I stopped laughing. "Whoever did this gave me a reason to kill them. So I'll kill them." She shuddered at this. Saber looked at me with a hard stare. "I'd be lying if I said this was for a higher purpose. This is for me. It's just me being selfish, like the person who killed them."

She's searching me to see if there's truth to my words. "How does that make you any different from the one who killed them?"

I'm a bit confused by this. "What? When did I ever say I was different from the killer?" Her expression is shocked. Rin edges away from me.

"Who are you?" Rin sounds a bit unnerved.

I laughed at her. "That's what I want to know. I thought I knew, but it didn't feel real. Turns out it wasn't." We sit in silence for a while. Saber doesn't move a muscle. It appears she's contemplating everything.

Then Rin stands up. "I'm going to get you a shirt."

"From where?"

She smiled at me. "I'm going to go buy it."

"Fine. Here." I went up and went to the briefcases. I opened one and withdrew a five thousand yen note. "Keep the change."

She stared at the bill and glanced at the two briefcases. "Where did you get all this money?"

I smirked at her. "I'm a hard-worker."

She broke into a fit of laughter and started to leave without taking the note. I tapped her shoulder. "Wait." I pulled the Glock out and offered it to her. She just stared at it. "Take it."

She looked up at me. "Why?"

I sighed as if the answer was obvious. "To protect yourself. I'd offer to go with you but I'm probably going to draw attention."

She smirked at me. "I have these." She unsheathed a throwing knife.

"Yeah, I'm not sure you know how to use those correctly. Watching anime doesn't qualify as training."

She glared at me. "Then how would I know how to use a gun?"

I thought this over for a second. "Fair point."

She went back to smirking. "Besides, I have magic too."

At this I holstered the Glock. "Well then, good luck. And, well, thanks." I received a warm smile. Then she walked out. She didn't even say 'bye' as she left.

Berserker got up and rushed after her. "Wait! Rinny!" She slammed the door shut behind her.

With them gone Saber and I sat in awkward silence. It lasted for a moment before she broke it. "What were those two to you?"

I looked at her. "Which two?"

She sighed. "Caster and her Master."

At this I had to think a bit. I stroked my nonexistent goatee. "Friends." This seemed to shock Saber a bit. I figured it was smart to keep on the offensive. "Just like you." She was silent again. Her mouth open in confusion.

Then she regained her composure and frowned at me. "There must have been more to it than that." Her tone was accusing.

I laughed at her. "There are some laws I refuse to break. Don't consider me that bad of a person."

She started frantically waving her hands at me. "I didn't mean it like that!"

I just smirked at her. "Well, I suppose if I were to stretch things I could almost say our relationship was that of a father and his children. Or perhaps an older brother and his bratty sisters."

She was surprised at this. "How could that be possible with the short time you knew each other?" She was again suspicious of me.

I sighed at her paranoia. "Don't know. I suppose I understood where they were coming from. Sympathy is the word I would use."

She snorted in amusement. "Sympathy? You? That seems unlikely. Even if I did believe that, why would you insist on avenging them on that alone? What could you gain from it?"

I laughed at her. "Gain? Why do I need to 'gain' anything? Maybe at most you could say I'm gaining peace of mind knowing that the sonofabitch that did this is dead." She stared at me.

I continued talking. "Think about it like this, if Claudia had lived longer than she had, only to be killed in your own home years later, would you feel the need to gain anything in killing the ones responsible? You'd tear up the entire city to find anyone who knew anything. I think I'm being a bit tame in my response."

Right when I finished saying that I knew I'd made a mistake. I'd let it slip that I knew who she was.

Though for some reason she seemed unfazed. Perhaps she hadn't even realized as to what I'd given away. "Claudia?"

Wait, what? Had she forgotten her own history? "Yeah. Your daughter."

Her eyes widened a bit. It seems she finally realized. "You know who I am." It's a statement. Well, that confirms it. She's caught on.

"Nero." I state it without contempt, but not with revere. My tone's almost emotionless and I have my best poker face on. She stared at me for a while. Her eyes and mouth open in shock. I offer her a smirk. "What, no correction saying I should refer to you as 'Emperor'?"

She glares at me. "It would be preferable if you did."

I smiled at her. "Ok, 'emprah." She's certainly no God-Emperor of Mankind, but I can humor her ego I suppose. "Now, do you understand what I mean?"

She blinked at me. "Not really." I practically fell over from this. She still didn't comprehend the point I'd made.

"What do you mean?! How is it hard to understand? Imagine if your kid got murdered. That's simple right?"

She was giving me a confused look. "My child? Who would that be?" I facepalmed at this. Was she an idiot? Or was this some younger version of Nero that hadn't gone through her entire life?

No, it couldn't be that. I saw her memories in my dreams. So she did live through her life. Were the history books wrong? I mean, she's a girl and not a man so there's already some inconsistencies. Though I assumed that was because she'd chosen to be summoned under this form, and not that history itself was wrong.

If that were the case, who's to say that other historical figures weren't actually female? What if King Arthur was actually Queen Arturia? No. That's fucking ridiculous. Nero just has to be an idiot. Then again this is Nero. Maybe she has so little shits to give that she can't even be bothered in remembering one of her children.

"Your daughter. Claudia Augusta. You don't even remember her?" She blinked at me. Then she started laughing. My left eye started to twitch.

"Claudia? Claudia Augusta?" I don't like her tone. It's nowhere near as serious as it should be. I was expecting her to freak out, or at least show something akin to sorrow from the loss of a child. Right now she's reacting in an unexpected manner.

Usually I wouldn't complain, but at the moment I'm attempting to coerce a Heroic Spirit in helping me in a petty quest for vengeance. I need to know where this is going, or else I'll end up treading in territory I'm unfamiliar with. Who knows what'll happen.

"Did I mumble? Why ask for clarification when I clearly said that name?" My words would appear to be chastising, when in fact the tone is one of curiosity. I can't afford to rebuke her now. At least not verbally. This is her past I'm talking about. Specifically the failures in her past. Not a pleasant talk for most people. Especially not someone with a history like Nero.

She smiles at me. The suddenness of it almost makes me flee. It's the exact opposite of what I was expecting her reaction to be. "Ah, so you are talking about _that_." I don't respond. She's tense. I can tell that this'll go bad if I'm not careful. If only being careful was something I was decent at.

"Nothing but a publicity stunt."

I have to think for a moment to process what she just said. "What?" It's the only thing I can manage to utter. A publicity stunt. What the fuck? Was this Ancient Rome we were talking about? Or was it Hollywood? Does she think she's Shia LaBeouf? This sounds more like some cheap reality show gimmick.

She just kept smiling. It didn't match the aura she gave off. I'd met many liars in my life. They always had something that gave them away. A tell, if we're going to use poker terminology. Saber, no, Nero wasn't showing any signs of lying. Then why was she so tense?

"My second marriage." Her words quickly turn acidic. She spits that sentence out like it's something distasteful. I, more than anyone, would know the face of spitting out something disgusting. Her sudden change in demeanor sets of alarm bells in my mind. I refrain from speaking.

Instead I just let her continue. "Was nothing more than a stunt. A show for the public to adore. I was an actor, in my own play." What is she talking about? She must be delusional. That or the history books were all wrong. Still, it seems far-fetched that an entire part of her life was nothing but role-play that someone incorrectly interpreted as being reality.

My head's hurting. Maybe she's just suppressing the actual memories? She's imagining that it was just a part for a play. Trying to distance herself from what actually happened. That makes more sense to me than all of it being an elaborate hoax.

Without thinking, I let words spill right out of my mouth. "This sounds like a rather shitty play."

Perhaps this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I'd told her I knew of her identity, something she'd desired to keep hidden from me. I'd brought up her past, something that was obviously mentally tiring for her to process. Now I'd gone and dismissed it all with a simple comment. I'd bluntly summed up her life.

Maybe it was too much.

Maybe the fact that I could so callously comment on her life is what drove her to the edge.

Maybe that's why she reacted in a less than pleasant manner.

She became hysterical. Not in a funny way either. No, this was some scary shit. She started shaking all over, to the point where I thought she was having a seizure. Then she tried to talk. All she could get out were a few grunts and various other guttural sounds. She then tried to swallow and regain her speech. This resulted in her futilely attempting to force down the lump in her throat. I thought she was going to puke. She started rapidly blinking, as if she couldn't see properly and was trying to repair her vision. After that she stood up and almost collapsed where she stood. The only thing that kept her balanced was that sword of hers, which she'd materialized and used to prop herself up.

She attempted to talk again. "What…did…you…?" There was a long pause as she slowly breathed in and out.

"Say?" I tried to help her out.

She thanked me by charging me with her sword. In an instant her weak presence was replaced by sheer fury. I barely managed to duck as she swung the blade at my head. Then I started unloading the Glock into her at close range. I'd slowly taken it when she started to freak out. Predictably the bullets did little in the form of actual damage. What they did do was cause her to hesitate. This gave me enough time to get away.

I sprinted into the hallway. She charged after me. On instinct alone I collapsed to the ground, successfully dodging another attempt at decapitating me. Then I rolled underneath her. Not my best idea. She attempted to crush my face underneath those ridiculous shoes of hers. I avoided her attempts at doing such and started to scurry away on all fours.

She caught me relatively fast. I was lifted off of the ground by the collar of my jacket. At this point the neighboring guests were coming out of their rooms and staring at us. "Saber! Stop! You're drawing too much attention!" I hissed at her.

She just glared at me. Since it didn't seem likely she'd be letting me go I decided to slip out of the jacket. Falling to the ground I broke out in a sprint and boarded myself into Rin's room. She shoved her sword through the door. Clearly she wasn't thinking straight.

I drew the Pico and pointed it at the door. I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell at surviving this. I had one last idea. It was a pretty shitty idea. With as much volume as I could produce I proclaimed to the door, "Marcus Aurelius was clearly a better emperor than you! Just look at how magnificent his hair was! He had curls! What did you have? Huh?!"

There was silence from the other side of the door. Then it opened. Well, what really happened is that she kicked it open. Which broke the door off its hinges. "How long have you known?!" She came in screaming. I had to actually think about what she'd just said. Partially because the gunfire had deafened me a bit. Partially because it didn't really fit the context of what she'd said before.

Shit. So was all of that she said about publicity stunts and the sort just bull? Has she just been building this anger since I mentioned her daughter? It didn't matter now. My life was on the line. For once, I didn't have a clue as to how to survive. Only one option. My eardrums were going to hate me even more.

I opened fire. Of course the bullets of a .380 did a bit less than a 9mm. Basically she just shrugged them off and kept advancing. People in the building were screaming now. Mainly because gunfire was going on. Oh, and some chick was wielding a sword and kicking doors in. Not really sure which part of this was scarier to them. Didn't really care at this point. The cops would show up and I'd be screwed.

I had to get out of here. So I answered her. "I've known for a while." It wasn't an outright lie.

"Since when?!" Oh boy, she's still not happy. Still not really sure why this matters to her. Though I'm not going to argue when all I have is a pocket pistol and she has a blade that'll cut through me like butter.

"Since our last meeting!" This caused her to stop. The sword disappeared and she just stared at me.

I just started reloading in front of her. No shame whatsoever. The box of bullets was almost empty by the time I was done. I pocketed the remaining bullets and just dropped the box on the floor of the apartment. Rin could worry about picking it up. Hopefully she'd recycle it.

Since Saber was still standing there, not moving, I decided it'd be fine to just hit the safety and holster the Pico. Then I started talking. Maybe I could fix everything with my words. "I've had these dreams. These dreams where I've gone through pieces of your past. I didn't need to be a genius to put all of those pieces together. Just semi-knowledgeable in history."

She frowns at me. I can't tell if this is an indication of displeasure or if she's just thinking. Maybe it's a combination of both. I keep talking. Hopefully I can make something out of this.

"You're Nero. History's declared you to be one of the worst tyrants that ever lived." She looked hurt at this. That hurt lasted for just a moment. Then she tried to cover it up by appearing offended. I acted before she started pulling out her sword. "That's great!"

It felt like the world had stopped. Almost as if time had frozen. I was smiling at her like a complete idiot. A big grin plastered across my face. She was staring at me in a face that I could only describe as the lovechild between shock and pride. Probably the first time I'd ever seen those two on someone's face at once. Then they were replaced by suspicion and confusion. Two emotions that I had to avoid. If she panicked I'd end up getting skewered.

"What do you mean by this?!" She was raising her voice. Oh Pesci, she was raising her damn voice. With my right hand I fondled the Pico in my pocket. My left hand was raised, palm faced towards her. A gesture of peace, and one that got her attention. Even as my other hand was prepared for conflict.

"Iron Maiden said it best. '666 the number of the beast.' It's said that number is derived from your name."

She interrupted me at this point. "So what if it is?" She wasn't as loud. Sure, she was far from calm, but it seems I have a chance at turning things around.

I have to appease to her ego.

"You were regarded in the same light as the devil. Surely that speaks of your strength and the impact you had on the world."

This puzzles her. I can tell from the question in her eyes. "What manner of man would work with the devil?"

The way she says it. . . .

It brings back a memory. One that I'd forgotten. Remembering it gave me a small headache. I'd asked my teacher a similar question. "Why would you work with the devil?" He had smiled. A small smile. One that told me all I needed to know. Then he laughed it off.

His explanation had vocalized that smile. "Because, sometimes evil gives you the power to do good, and sometimes good gives you the power to do evil."

This is how I answered Saber. My teacher's message was passed down to her verbatim.

Her eyes widened at the words. I smiled at her. A genuine smile. One that wasn't that different from the smile my teacher had given me. Then I started walking towards her. She stiffened for a moment, then she relaxed. I could see the tension flow out of her. I kept walking until I was right beside her.

We faced opposite directions. I faced towards the door. She faced into the room itself.

I no longer heard the panicked voices of the building's occupants.

I no longer saw the damage we'd done to the room.

I no longer smelled the gunpowder in the air.

I didn't turn to her, and she didn't turn to me. We just stared straight ahead.

"Let me know if you're willing to work with the devil. There's a child killer loose. He needs to be sent to Hell." I said this with more conviction than I thought I had. It confused both of us. Maybe I actually meant what I said. I don't even know anymore.

I left when she didn't say anything, picking up my jacket on my way out.

I didn't notice the people in the hallway who stared at me.

I didn't hear the woman at the front desk asking me to stop.

I was out in the streets before I even realized it. Rin was standing in front of me, Berserker at her side. She was smirking at me. Clearly she hadn't realized something was up. In her hands was a pink t-shirt. One that proudly proclaimed 'I love Japan'. The 'o' in 'love' was a red heart. The words themselves were all capitalized.

I accepted it without question. She blushed a bit when I put it on in front of her. Berserker looked far too pleased. My white jacket went on over the t-shirt. I looked even more like an eccentric tourist. One that the average person would assume to be homosexual. I didn't care. It wouldn't be a bad thing. Unless I started getting unwanted displays of affection.

I nodded at Rin. "Thanks. Pink's my favorite color." Then I pushed past her and walked away. An expression of disappointment was on her face.

Berserker called to me as I walked. "Pig? Where are you going?"

I answered without turning around. "To find someplace quiet. Get out of the hotel. The cops will be coming."

I could feel their stares as I continued walking down the street.

I didn't care. I needed to find someplace to think. Things just didn't add up.

Halfway down the street I notice that the zipper to my pants was down the entire time.

Today was a great day.

* * *

**Well that's another chapter done. Sorry for the wait. I would have probably finished this earlier this month if not for Fallout 4 coming out. Is that a worthy excuse? Heavens no. Will I use it anyway? Hell yeah. Will I ever fix my work schedule? Purgatory maybe. (I think that's the worst joke I've made so far.) Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. It means a lot. No seriously it does. I'm so pitiful that I get excited when the number of any of these things increases by one. Feel free to send me a private message if any of you have questions. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Type-Moon owns Fate, I own my OC, bla bla bla. I'm still a lazy worthless son of a gun for taking so long to update. It's safe to assume updates will happen once a month at the very end of a month. At least until I step up my game. Also, this chapter ends on a small cliffhanger. Don't hate me too much. **

* * *

**Chapter 13- Decisions and Dunces**

**Nero's POV**

My fists were still clenched in anger. Sweat was across my brow. I could still feel the heat in my face. My head was pounding with a migraine.

That encounter had been less than pleasant.

Praetor. The fact that he knew was infuriating to me. I do not know why. Was it because I did not want him to know? Or was it because I had wanted to tell him myself?

I bit my lower lip in frustration. The blood tasted salty in my mouth.

I wanted him to earn that trust. At one point he had seemed capable of doing so. He was not a bad man. I did not see the devil that he did. The fact that he saw himself as such raised a lot of questions.

His identity being one of them.

He had just revealed that for a while he has known my complete history, yet I knew nothing about his. It could not be good. Not with how he saw himself. Either that or he lied. That was possible. Though it did not seem to be the case. Perhaps he simple had gotten more pessimistic. It hardly mattered.

What did matter was the fact that he had given himself the qualities of the devil, yet these same qualities were not given to me. It brought new meaning to the song he had sung, and why he had chosen it.

I had thought it would prove something of him. A man that could sing, and in doing so chose to sing of sympathies for the devil was an odd man indeed. But, unlike the others, he did not simply see me as the Whore of Babylon. Instead he asked me to join forces with him despite his own flaws.

He did not feel a dualistic sense of morality like so many. The kind based on either black or white. He was not the type who would only care for either a comedy or tragedy, refusing to mingle them together into subgenres that lead to their own greatness.

There was beauty in this. In taking the good and the bad, to make something. For a tragedy is rather depressing without some comedy and filler. And a comedy is unstimulating and lacks plot without some form of tension or conflict.

Praetor seemed to be someone who would understand that.

He would have quickly worked with Rin, even though he knew her occupation. Her work as a terrorist. I despised rebellion, and because of this I disliked the thought of allying myself with her. However, Rin had proved to be an outstanding person. Her heart was kind even though she attempted to hide it with her personality.

Very few Masters would let an enemy Servant hang around them, especially when that Servant was lacking a Master themselves. She had done more than that, she had sheltered me. While it is fitting that she do so, I am an emperor after all, it was not something I had expected. To think, a rebel would be the most courteous.

I do not know if Praetor knew all of this about her in the beginning, but when he said she was too good to be in the war he revealed that he at least knew the type of person she was now.

Still, it was frustrating that he had figured out my identity without my knowledge. What is worse is he never made mention of it. According to him he'd learned around when we last met. He could have said something. The thought that my Master knew my identity yet wasn't going to abandon me would have probably changed my mind about leaving.

Did he care so little for my presence? Is he only coming back now because he needs my strength? Or was he just giving me space?

I had to question as to how wise Praetor was. I also had to think of his motives.

He could be playing me. Just like my mother.

This story about revenge on a child killer could be completely fabricated. Perhaps he simply thought of a reason to desire the Grail, and now he wants a Servant to help him get it. Or maybe he just got bored. That actually sounds more like him. He could try and use me as a means of amusement. Like a small child playing with a toy.

What was the most frustrating thing about our interaction would have to be the mention he made of my child. That was a memory I was trying to forget. He refused to let me live in my delusions! Which is why I question his wisdom. He comes across a mother who lost her child, and instead of avoiding the topic he brings it up as a means of reasoning with me.

A manner of manipulating me. Which is why I had to watch how much trust I placed into him. I had thought that I had gotten over Claudia's death. She had not been that old. She was still my child though. My only child. I was her mother. I could not protect her. I could not see her grow up in this world. She was taken from me!

And Praetor, he cruelly brought that up. He joked about it. I had to watch a man that was so apathetic he would casually jest to a mother about her dead daughter!

How could he do that?

My migraine worsened when I started to smell something smoldering.

Absentmindedly I had been digging and twisting my sword into the floor. The realization that in my current state I could cause even more damage to the room unintentionally made me pause in my contemplations. I took my blade out of the horrid carpet and started taking a few deep breaths in order to calm my nerves. Then I began to fix the few strands of hair that insisted in falling on my face. With that done, I felt a bit calmer.

Now, back to the matter at hand.

Praetor.

He was a sordid man. But one that did not judge others who could be considered the same. People like me. I fully recognize that my critics viewed me as a monster. Much like Praetor. However he does not see me as the same.

Could I manage to see him as something besides the shell of a human that he has become? Could I find more in him than this sociopathic maniac?

I think I can.

If he is telling the truth, right now he is fighting to avenge a child. That is not something the average sociopath would do. He has to have a motivation for living. Surely he must have a soul.

I need to find more on him. It is only fair. He had the audacity to pry into my past. As an emperor, it is my privilege to return the favor.

My head still has a migraine. I am still clenching my fists. But not in fury. I no longer need to hold back righteous anger. Now I clench my fists in anticipation.

Praetor has a lot to answer for.

I would give him a long lecture on intruding into my past, then I would question him.

First I needed to get out of here. This place is a mess. The maids could handle the cleanup. After all, they were getting paid to do so. It would be granting them an honor.

Before leaving the room I noticed something. In his haste, Praetor had forgotten the two briefcases he had carried into the room. The ones that held his money. For a moment I allowed the idea of spending it. However, as enticing as that idea was, it didn't seem like the right thing to do.

A small smile crept on my lips, and I sighed at the forgetfulness of Praetor. The only thing I could do in goodwill would be to return the briefcases to him. It seemed only fair, and it was not like I would be going out of my way. I was looking for him anyway.

He would owe me even more for this.

Grasping a briefcase in each hand I strolled out of the hotel without acknowledging the gaping expressions of its occupants. Their expressions did make me a bit happy inside.

Even at my worst, even at a time like this, my public still remained in awe of my presence.

Outside I came across Rin and Berserker. Rin was staring off into the distance ahead. Every once and a while she would scratch her head in confusion. Berserker was stupidly talking about her favorite color of all things.

It annoyed me that she liked red. That was my favorite. Only I could like it. How dare she insult the beauty of red?!

I rushed to them in a fit of anger, only to stop when Rin started gaping at me like the hotel occupants. "I can't believe his favorite color is pink of all things."

I raised my brow in confusion. "Pardon?"

She looked me over and ignored my question. "What happened to you?"

I looked down and noticed that my dress was in disarray. I probably allowed this in my anger. It would be good to avoid such fits in the future. There were even a few bullet holes in it. That was probably because of how Praetor attempted to avoid me. It only took a moment and I was in the exact same dress, albeit without the mess.

Rin blinked a bit before starting to nod. She looked like someone who was trying to look like she understood something she did not. "Where did Praetor go?"

Berserker was the one who pointed in the direction Rin had been staring. "To someplace quiet."

I just stared at her for a moment. "What does that even mean?"

She shrugged at me. "It's what he said."

I could only sigh at her and turn to Rin. "I am going to go find him."

She nodded at this. "It took you long enough."

I glanced at the hotel. "I apologize for the damage to your room. It was the fault of Praetor."

She grimaced when I mentioned her room being damaged. "It's ok. He'll pay for it." The way she said it made me think that she fully intended for him to pay back every bit he owed her.

I smiled at her.

Briefcase in hand, I offered a wave, and we parted ways. Now, off to find Praetor.

* * *

**Guess who's back, back again. Dante. That's who. It's in his POV too.**

What the hell was happening?

My brain was dancing in my head. And I don't even know what the hell that means.

The point is, I'm confused. Wouldn't you be pretty fucking confused if you'd learned that you weren't the age you thought you were? That meant I had years missing. Years that I had no idea as to what happened. Memories that didn't exist anymore.

Hell, maybe all my memories were just fake. They were starting to feel wrong. In the adrenaline rush that was escaping from the police and tracking down Saber I could avoid all these troubling worries. Now they were all popping into my paranoid little brain. Like maggots in a corpse. Slowly devouring the small semblance of sanity I had.

I have to find somewhere where I can just think. Luckily, I know just the place.

Just to be safe I take a few fake detours. It still doesn't take long before I'm there. An unimpressive one story building squished between a noodle shop on its left, and an electronics store on its right. My backup safe house.

Yes, I'm a paranoid fuck. Yes, Bush did 9/11.

Well, time to open the door and sit on my thinking chair. That way I can finally solve this riddle. Blue's Clues style.

I insert the key I kept in my wallet and open the door.

Before I even turned on the light I realized something was wrong. I wasn't alone.

"Turn the light on." A deep voice commanded me from the corner.

I obliged and the lights flickered on. Immediately I knew who I was dealing with. Two intimidating looking gentlemen. Standing right next to a coffee table. They both had suits on. I ruled out police on account of the expensive gold watches, rings, and chains they had on. That meant they were probably gang members sent to kill me.

It was probably Uragiri who sent them. Slimy fuck. Well, it's kind of funny that these guys probably have a 'giri', or duty, to Uragiri. Not only is he the least qualified to be actually giving orders, it's also amusing to think of it as a 'Giri giri'. It sounds funny if you say it aloud. Go ahead, do it. I dare you.

Ok fine, I'll admit it's not that funny.

But pretending to understand a culture you've been forced into assimilating to sure is. Note the sarcasm here. If the world could hear my thoughts a herd of weeaboos would charge me, katanas raised proud. Of course I would then proceed to utterly massacre them and later hunt down their body pillows. Just to be sure that there's nothing left that could ever possibly mourn their departure from the land of the living.

Anyway these two dipshits are standing around acting all menacing. Clearly they think they're tough shit. That kind of shit that is painful shitting out. The constipated shit that you just curse at.

Well, I'm about to curse at these two for being in my goddamn house. They better have at least brought a housewarming present, or else I'll be pissed. I address the one that seems to be the eldest. Mainly because I respect my elders.

I'm joking of course, it's because the other stupid shit is currently picking his nose and doesn't deserve the courtesy of me speaking to his dumb ass.

The old man has a few gray strands in his hair, which is slicked back with more oil than that involved in the Exxon Valdez spill. I bet if I dropped a match on him he'd be a great Molotov.

"You slimy fuck. Why are you in my damn house?"

This is how gangsters must be talked to. Don't question it. Also, don't practice it. Or at least sign a waiver before you do.

The old guy, we'll call him Hedorah because he's essentially just a filthy slime, goes and takes a long moment to perfectly build up the right amount of phlegm. I can tell this is what he's doing because he's standing their making loud noises. Noises you'd hear during the mating of walruses.

He then proceeds to cough it all up on my floor.

All of his walrus sex mucous lands right on my carpet.

Of the house I just got in.

After pondering that my entire existence might be a lie.

And just having to verbally and physically battle Saber.

It's safe to say that their sudden appearance and lack of respect for the building which I bought causes me to be a bit upset.

By this I mean I open fire almost immediately upon them. The bullets impact their chests. They fall, and the lack of blood tells me they probably were wearing bulletproof vests.

Walking over to their downed forms confirms this. Probably the only thing these guys have down right so far. The first one I notice is Hedorah. He's breathing in heavily, but he's still alive. Courtesy of aforementioned vest strapped to his torso. Since he's closest to me I rationalize that I'd be able to respond to his actions first and point my gun, the Pico, at his partner's form instead of his.

Right now Hedorah's trying desperately to reach into his jacket without being too obvious. He fails miserable at his stealthy attempts. Which is unsurprising considering these guys aren't really on a Sam Fisher or Agent 47 level in regards to being sneaky.

I assume that he's going for a gun and respond by stomping hard on his hand and chest. He grunts in pain and looks at me in fury. I just wiggle my index finger back in forth in a display of disproval. Then I reach into his jacket and pull out his gun, a Colt M1911. Pretty predictable.

His partner, who I just now noticed has the moustache of a creepy pedophile, tries the same stealth draw that Hedorah attempted. I respond a bit more aggressively. By this I mean I just shoot his right foot. There's a loud scream from him.

Hedorah attempts to get up, which results in me shooting him in his left foot, and by the end of it I have two pathetic and wounded hitmen groveling on my carpet in pain. I reach across Hedorah and into the jacket of his partner. He pitifully attempts at swatting my hand away with a series of slaps, to which I look at him like he's an idiot. Which he is.

I pull out the gun he was going for. A revolver that I recognize as a Nagant M1895. Essentially the gun a hipster would use if they'd just became a hitman.

The only words I can think of are, "You know, you can put a suppressor on that?"

He just smiles with his pitiful moustache. "Yeah, I know."

Then he goes for something inside his jacket again. I point the Pico at him so he gets the idea that he shouldn't do that. Instead I reach into his jacket for him and pull out a cheap suppressor.

"Well, obviously you don't know how these things work. You put the suppressor on the gun before attempting to shoot the gun. You don't go into the target's house and then attempt to suppress it while the target is pointing his gun at you. Clearly you didn't go to a proper hitman training camp."

Moustache man, we'll call him Dirty Sanchez for reasons, replies with the dumbest thing I've heard in a while. "There's a hitman training camp?"

Thankfully Hedorah has some sense with how he answers him. "No you fuckin idiot! He's just screwing with you."

I give him a nod of approval.

He flicks me off.

I kick him in his wounded foot and he starts crying.

This makes me want to take my nod of approval back. I deserve a refund for showing the guy any semblance of respect.

All I can do is sigh at these two. "How much did they offer to pay you to kill me?"

Hedorah only sniffles a bit, so Sanchez is the one that answers. "100,000 yen."

This insults me a bit. "That's it? That's all my death is worth to them?"

Sanchez just shrugs. It makes me facepalm. "Well, the lack of reward explains why two amateurs like you took the job."

Hedorah makes a weird noise that sounds like something you'd hear a mentally handicapped dolphin utter. I can only assume it was his attempt at defending his honor. I briefly consider paying them the 100,000 yen. It'd be like donating to charity with how sad these two are.

It was at that moment that I realized I'd forgotten the briefcases which held most of my finances. This caused me to groan at my own idiocy. My two 'guests' heard the groan and tried to make conversation.

"What's wrong? You ok?" It was strange that the two hitmen that had wanted to kill me were now asking if I was alright. Then again, I suppose it was stranger that I was thinking about paying them to get them off my back.

I pulled out my wallet and fished out a few ten thousand yen notes. Then I tossed the bills at the two wounded men, who scrambled to grab them. "There. That's compensation for the guns. And for shooting you."

This caused them to gasp in confusion at me.

"Close your damn mouths. You'll catch flies leaving them open like that."

"Why are you paying us?" Hedorah finally managed to come up with a coherent sentence.

"I would have given you what Uragiri was going to pay you if I had it. I don't like owing people things. I'm taking your guns, I have to give you something for them or else I'll be in debt to you."

Both of them gawked at me. "How'd you know Uragiri hired us?"

I laughed at this. "Doesn't take a rocket scientist. I just figured it was the most recent person I've pissed off. Speaking of which." I drew the Glock I'd taken from the police. They cower on the floor, thinking I'm going to shoot them again.

Instead I toss the gun to them. "It's not loaded. I ran out of bullets for it. That reminds me. Got any spare magazines?" I hold out my hand like a kid asking for his allowance.

They looked at me like I was crazy. Sanchez spoke up. What he says doesn't surprise me. Which says a lot about how I view him. "What, like a Playboy?"

I just groaned in annoyance. "No, dipshit. Magazines for the 1911. Or else any spare bullets for your revolver."

He slowly reaches into his jacket to show he's not trying something. Then he tosses me a small box of ammunition. Fourteen of the strange 7.62 mm Nagant cartridges that his weird little gun fires. I'm a bit surprised that they're not the commercially loaded ammunition, and instead it's a box of the original military grade stuff. At least it's not going to be completely useless.

"What are you some type of collector?"

He just shrugs. "It was my granddad's gun."

I stare at him for a moment. I have a vague suspicion that this is the guy's first contract. He's a virgin in the world of hitmen. For some reason I'm proud that I'm the guy's first time. I popped his contract killing cherry. Goddamn that sounds so wrong now that I think about it.

I glance at Hedorah. "What about you?"

He grunts and then tosses a few magazines of the 1911's .45 ACP. A round that I will take full advantage of. That sounds strange too. Where the hell is my mind at?

I offer them a nod of thanks and then gesture to the Glock. "I stole it from some cop I shot. Keep that in mind, and avoid getting caught with it."

"What's this for?" Sanchez speaks up.

"Protection. Uragiri's going to want you both dead if he hears you didn't kill me." They visibly shudder at this. "I'd suggest getting some ammo for it. Or else sell it to get something better. Remember it's a cop gun though, so sell it to someone who doesn't care about that." They both nod. At least they listen to me. "Sell or keep. It's your choice in the end."

They continued staring at me. I walked over to the house's bathroom and went through the medicine cabinet. I came back with a bottle of painkillers and a few syringes of morphine. Ignoring their complaints I injected the morphine into them. Then I handed them the painkillers.

"That'll dull the pain for now. Take these pills when it flares up. Go to a doctor or a hospital to get patched up."

More staring. They were like little kids who were at the zoo for the first time. I must seem like some foreign object to them. Something that's incomprehensible. I can only imagine as to what would have happened had these guys tried to kill one of the more cold-blooded members of society.

"Stop staring at me. I'm not an alien." They just blinked. I sighed. "I'd fix you up here, but I don't really have the patience right now. Don't bleed all over my house. Just take this shit and get the hell out."

They both shared a look. I pointed the Pico at them for emphasis. That got the point across their addled brains and they managed to get up and limp out of my house. Cash and drugs in hand. I heard a faint pair of 'thanks' as they stumbled down the street.

Bastards forgot to close the door. I did it for them.

Then I got to work on cleaning up the small pools of blood that had formed where they were laying on my floor. It was a bitch to clean. After doing so I lit a cigarette and sat down on the only couch in the house, my two new guns laid next to me. Cheap suppressor and all.

This house was a small place. Smaller than the other one. It wasn't my teacher's. It was property I'd bought myself. The front room where I'd had my 'battle' with those two 'hitmen' only consisted of a coffee table, the couch I was currently sitting at, a lamp, and an armchair. There was a small stove/oven combination in the corner. Along with a sink, and a fridge/freezer combination.

The only bathroom was off to the side. It had the basics. Cabinet, sink, toilet, shower. Nothing fancy. The bedroom was across from the bathroom. It only had a queen sized bed and a dresser. There was a storage room on the other side of the front room I was in. Not really anything noteworthy in there. Just a bunch of junk. A few metal folding chairs, old files and books, a few empty cardboard boxes.

This house was mostly identical to the other one. Except it only had one floor and lacked a garage. The only reason this house was mine was because I'd always believed in the importance of a backup plan. With how things turned out it seems my paranoia ended up paying off for once.

I exhaled a cloud of smoke and started to reflect on all that had happened.

Instead of having to deal with John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson I got a duo of amateurs that were complete morons. The only thing that they did right was buy a pair of bulletproof vests. Even that wasn't foolproof. If I'd shot them with the right type of round they would have ended up dead all the same. They were lucky I only had a .380.

I glanced at the four spent casings that were on the carpet. I took the last few spare bullets I had and loaded them into the Pico's magazine. Which meant I only had a few shots left before it'd be a paperweight like the Glock. Unless I wanted to try and find some dealer who'd sell to me after all that happened.

I could of course try my luck at projecting bullets. It seemed like I was in better shape after Plus did whatever the hell she did. Maybe I was just an idiot and hadn't really been in that bad of shape. Couldn't exactly trust Rin completely. She wasn't as much of a greenhorn in magic as I was, but I wasn't exactly talking to a distinguished veteran of the Clock Tower.

Speaking of which, what the hell were they up to? You'd think that with all the shit I was doing they would have sent someone to kick my ass. If not them the Church would have done it. I shiver a bit at the thought of the Church getting involved. There was a slim chance that the two big factions that had a role in this thought I wasn't being too showy. That was a good thing. Or else maybe they were tied up at the moment. A Dead Apostle or two running around would probably turn their attention away from little old me.

Regardless, I had better things to worry about. Like what the hell was wrong with my head. I had to hurry up and sort through my own thoughts to find the truth.

Apparently I was twenty-five going on twenty-six. It could be possible that I'd simply forgotten. It'd be understandable with the amount of fake aliases I had. Or else maybe the police were the ones who were mistaken. I couldn't exactly ask them now. Maybe I should have thought things through before breaking out in a hail of bullets.

If only there was someone who knew something about me.

My teacher was dead.

Uragiri knew little, he was just a contact I'd met from a few odd jobs. Legal jobs too. Things like picking up packages he was too lazy to get. Or doing his grocery shopping of all things. Moron would have me drop them off at a 'secured' location for his men to pick up. It wasn't hard to find out who he was. I was doing his daily chores.

The hilarious part about all of this was the guy probably thought I was some super sleuth. Or that I at least was a serious contender in the information business. I only knew about his mistress because I actually met the girl. She was a ditsy thing, and had heard I helped out Uragiri from one of his thugs. I ended up having to go lingerie shopping with her. Nowhere near as exciting as it sounds.

Other than all the boring stuff, there were a few cases in which Uragiri had me frame someone he had a problem with. It was always a guy from a similar background as him. That background being Yakuza in this case. His connections were how he paid me. Information was worth more than cash.

My relationship with Jake was much the same. Though Jake was much more trustworthy. Our relationship was also older. He was a close friend of my teacher's. That could mean he knew something. Though it was doubtful. The guy had been surprised I'd even existed. He was a military friend, and as such he didn't know anything about my teacher's life after the military. They'd both parted ways after they left the service.

Jake had ended up joining some CIA style of work. I'd only learned about him after my teacher's disappearance. Didn't really have a need for him until now. He was less of a contact and more of that grumpy relative who'd send a card once a year during Christmas. I didn't even celebrate Christmas so it was always awkward replying to him.

I'd be drinking scotch or something, smoking a cigarette, and I'd hear the postman drive up on his scooter and deliver my mail. The first time it'd happened I'd threatened the postman with a gun. It goes without saying, but that was the last time he ever delivered my mail. The next guy they got had nerves of steel. I threatened him every time he showed up, and every time he'd look at me with a face that plainly said 'I'm all out of fucks to give.' It was rather admirable.

I never got mail besides that one letter. I'd always reply in a few sentences or less. Like I said it was awkward. I barely understood the concept of time and I'd always forget what day was what. Probably the main reason I didn't celebrate Christmas. It was just another day on the calendar I didn't have. Jake's letters at least let me know what one day of the 365 was.

In one of my replies I had complained about having to write. He responded the next year by giving me his phone number. That allowed for us to interact more. It was almost like I had some distant relative that I couldn't be bothered to visit. That grandmother that forgot your name but still calls you and repeats the same damn story a dozen times.

In conclusion, the two people that would normally be able to answer any question I needed answered were completely useless. Oh yeah, and one of them kind of wanted me dead. Which meant I had to use 'unique' methods.

One option was manipulating Tohsaka. She had to have some connections. Though it would be a long shot.

The idea that seemed the best choice involved Saber. I dreamed about her past. Perhaps she would have the same type of dreams. They'd just be about my past. It involved trusting her. More trust than I really wanted to give. But, it might be my only chance to know what the truth is. Even if I ran the risk of hearing her interpretation of the truth.

Sure, she'd already shown me that she was less than reliable when talking about the past, but it was worth the risk if it meant I could understand. My curiosity was getting the better of me. With that decided I can focus on the other issue.

Getting payback.

I plan on waiting for Saber for that. While it's possible that the culprit was a normal human, it's also entirely possible that it was a servant. That would explain Minus' death. It also made sense as to why they'd target them in the first place. The only thing that didn't make sense was their reasoning for framing me instead of just killing me.

If they managed to take out Minus, they could probably take me down as well without much of a struggle. I wasn't exactly a tank. But I could still prove to them that they made a mistake in letting me live. I had a goal. Whoever they were, whatever they were, it didn't matter. Even if Saber didn't help me I'd go after the ones responsible for this situation.

For revenge. For Minus and Plus, but mainly for myself.

I get up off the couch and walk over to the fridge. Opening it, I'm not surprised that it only has booze in it. No food. It's kind of sad honestly. A six pack of beer reminds me of the joke I made at the hotel. I've guzzled down two without even realizing it. It makes me feel a bit pathetic.

I lift my shirt up and glance at my body. What I saw disappointed me a bit. While I could still be referred to as lean, it was noticeably thicker around my stomach. I had to sigh at this. I'd expected that I'd eventually get the infamous 'beer belly'. It wasn't really noticeable now, but I could only assume that if, by some miracle, I made it to my forties and fifties I'd end up being part of the chub n' tuck lifestyle. Well, that would be the case if not for the glorious thing called magic.

Just to test things out I attempted to access my magic circuits. It worked better than I expected. Sure, I was a bit more tired than I used to be after doing it, but overall I felt good. Though not completely whole. I don't know what Plus did, but it certainly helped. Again, there was also the chance that she'd just been a placebo. Perhaps I had been fine all along.

But it doesn't matter now. It still felt like things were locked away for me. Almost like how in some video games certain skills were unavailable until you progressed further along.

While pondering this I almost choked on my fifth beer. The moment of uncomfortableness drove me out of my thoughts.

And that's right around where I heard it. The revving of a motorcycle's engine. Followed by the screeching of tires. I knocked back the beer, crushed the can with a needlessly reinforced hand, and dove behind the couch.

It wasn't a second too soon.

Bullets whizzed through the house, punching through the front door and the wall around it. A few ricocheted off the wall behinds me and randomly flew around the room. Some hit the couch. I could tell from the stuffing that flew around the room. The gunfire didn't last that long.

It felt like the gunman had emptied out a thirty round magazine. Though that was just an assumption on my part based on the amount of holes in front of me. My front wall and door had become Swiss cheese. I guessed that since he was on a vehicle it was probably compact.

A guy that was so reckless as to empty a mag into a house like this led me to the belief that he probably wasn't using an expensive or top of the line gun. It was probably an open-bolt he'd converted to full auto. Something like a Mini Uzi or a MAC-11. Maybe a TEC-9 if he was some depressed edgy kid looking for attention.

After processing all of this drivel I made one of the worst decisions in a situation like this. It was a decision influenced by alcohol and the anger I currently felt at being denied more alcohol. I scrambled off of the ground.

Grabbing the 1911 off of the bullet riddled couch, I rushed out the door. The dude who had been so kind as to install several new windows into my house was currently attempting to load a fresh magazine into his gun. He was seated upon a Kawasaki sport bike. It only took a quick glance to recognize his gun as a Micro Uzi. The version that was even smaller than the Mini. Eh, I was close enough.

The asshole looked up to see me standing in front of him with a very pissed off expression. He gifted me with an 'oh shit' face before turning and attempting to drive away. In his haste he actually managed to drop the Uzi. It collided with the pavement underneath him.

Refraining from wasting the time to facepalm at his stupidity, I raised the 1911 and took aim. The recoil from the gun was more than the Pico, but nothing compared to the Model 500. I watched, in what felt like slow motion, as the bullet flew right into his left butt cheek.

The shock of being hit caused him to lose balance and fall off his bike. The noise that came out of his mouth sounded like a cross between a cow being branded and a pig that had just been slaughtered. Basically it was PETA's worst nightmare. He rolled a few times before remaining still. The bike skidded to a stop a few feet away from him.

I calmly walked over to the Uzi. Picking it up off the ground I quickly checked it over. His idiocy didn't seem to damage it more than a few scratches. I felt a bit lucky. Three free guns, and all I had to do was properly school the morons that tried to kill me with them.

He'd managed to get the mag into the gun, but had jammed it in his moment of haste. I cleared the jam, but left the bolt open to avoid chambering a round. I even removed the magazine. Just to be safe. After carefully laying the gun down in front of my door I made my way to the motorcyclist.

He was groaning in agony as he firmly clasped his hands over the wound I'd given him. I glanced at him in the same manner a cat would look at a hurt mouse. Then I turned my attention to his bike. Walking to it revealed that, while I'd scratched the paint job, it was still fully functional.

Guess my loot would be rather abundant at the end of the day. I propped the bike up and wheeled it inside my house, finally propping it up against the wall.

After doing so I felt the need to take a break. The sixth and final beer was downed without much enthusiasm. I haphazardly tossed the can into a corner and made my way outside.

The guy was still groaning and literally clenching his butt cheeks. I walked over to him and lightly tapped the tip of my foot on his wound. He inhaled a sharp breath.

I chuckled. "I just tapped that ass." The joke was immature, and not that funny, but despite that (and the fact that he'd been shot) my assailant laughed.

So in order to further his merriment I brutally kicked him where he'd been shot. The laugh was silenced as he started screaming in pain. I kept chuckling. "I totally kicked your ass. Literally and figuratively."

He attempted to grab my foot. I aimed the 1911 at his head. It goes without saying that he stopped trying to grab me. I stopped chuckling. Then I shot him in his right butt cheek. He jumped from the impact.

"Have to make it even."

He tried in vain to get up. The pain kept him down. Along with my gun and foot. "You thought you would be the one to kill me? Huh Mr. Dullahan? You think I'll let you kill me?"

He didn't answer. I grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground. "All I wanted was some peace and quiet. Now you're the third chuckle fuck to bother me. Come on Forrest Gump, LBJ wants to take a look at the wound on your buttocks."

* * *

**Once again I have to thank King Keith for assisting me. He helped me fine-tune Nero's perspective, and added what it needed to feel more emotional. I should have added some ellipses or hyphens in order to show hesitation but I completely forgot to do so and also where I should add them. There's also the fact that my junior high English teacher would have killed me for doing so, but then again he would have done it had he known about my use of the parentheses. Mwahahaha, take that Mr. Wolfe, you can't keep my artistic creativity down. (Never let me say that again.) **

**Shout-out to SilverstormXD as well. I'll be frank with you. I assumed you were either the most enthusiastic person in the world (minus the Dos Equis) or else just drunk/high (possibly because of the Dos Equis). However after translating your reviews I came to the conclusion that you made a really valid point about Dante's powers. I'll be honest. I actually kind of forgot the whole 'lost power' thing and kind of went with the flow. We'll see where it goes and if I can reel it back in. All jokes aside, I got to show some gratitude to you for leaving all those reviews. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling to see that I'd gone from 18 to 23 reviews in a day. Which is kind of pitiful and something I shouldn't have admitted. But screw it! I had a laugh so it's all good. So thank you for spending the time to review!**

**Of course I also have to thank all the others who reviewed. Tear, it's good to hear that the story's still funny at Chapter 5, let's hope it stays funny for the rest of it's life span. To the Guest, you're great too but next time sign in so I can give you a personal compliment and it feels like we've bonded. Plus you'll forever be remembered* in the annals of this fanfiction. **

_***No guarantee that this is true. I accept no responsibility for any disappointment that might be felt when this turns out not to be true. **_

**I'm thinking about changing the story's rating to M for 'mwahahaha'. Just to be safe, there's a lot in this story that could already be considered more M than T. (T standing for 'Tyrannasaurus' of course.) I consider a T story to be around the same as Mr. T in terms of how far they're willing to go. An M story is a story that might be a bit too crude or violent for even Mr. T's tastes. I think Dante passed that mark somewhere in Chapter 2.**

**Should have wished you guys a Happy Thanksgiving last chapter, but I forgot I was updating the day before Thanksgiving so . . . . Happy extremely belated Thanksgiving! Enjoy the turkey that's already been fully digested and decomposed for a month. While I'm at it I'll wish you all a Merry Christmas. Again, it's a belated one, but at least I'm only off by a few days and not a month. Happy (Merry?) Kwanzaa too for any of you that celebrate it. I don't. Nor do I know much about it. But it's the only other holiday I can think of that happened in late December this year. (Hanukkah doesn't count this year. Next year it will.) I refuse to wish you all a 'Happy Holidays' because 'Murica that's why. Oh, yeah today's New Years too. So. That's cool too. Happy New Years. Please don't make me say anymore holiday greetings. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: This chapter is probably the darkest of them all. Just a heads up, there's some softcore torture. Jeez I feel weird writing that. It's not too bad though, my imagination is nowhere near dark enough to vividly detail that. Also forgive me for some of the language that will be used. I went more with the modern American idea of a gangster. **

* * *

** Quailing and Questioning**

Five minutes later and my new friend's tied to one of the folding chairs in the junk room. Courtesy of the wonderful invention that is duct tape.

I pulled up a folding chair and took a seat in front of him. One leg crossed over another, and with hands folded in front of me. His Micro Uzi is laying on my couch, next to the Nagant revolver. His sport bike is still where I left it.

We've been staring at each other for the past few minutes. Me with a smirk on my face, him with a defiant glare. Secretly I'm debating exactly where I'm going with this. My first idea was to reenact the one scene from Reservoir Dogs. My lack of a straight razor and the fact that Mr. Blonde had ended up dead at the end of that scene resulted in me dismissing this idea. It's a shame, it would have made me feel like Vincent van Gogh. Except I wouldn't have been the one to lose my ear.

Still would have been art.

This man was the final nail in the coffin. I'd let the other two leave in a relatively decent condition. They were idiots, so I pitied them. They also hadn't shot up my house. In particular he had shot up the couch.

The place Saber would probably make me sleep if she did decide to help me. Guess I'd have to sleep next to her now. Strangely the idea didn't seem that discomforting. It would be playing into her hand though. So I'd vehemently argue against it for the sake of principle.

Before I'd have to deal with that I'd have to deal with the guy in front of me. He'd pissed me off more than the other two. It wouldn't be too unfair to teach him a lesson. Besides, pity was one thing but unnecessary mercy would give them the impression that I was soft. Which wasn't something you wanted to be seen as by people like this.

This is why I'd restrained him in a sitting position in a metal chair. Even though he tried to hide it behind his glare, I could tell that the location of his wounds and his position in the chair was causing him severe pain.

If I had jumper cables I would have just gone full Trevor on this goon. Instead we're sitting here and staring at each other. It's almost like we're little kids, trying to see who blinks first. He still has that glare on his face. I still have my smirk. I can tell he's furious, but I'm not sure if that anger's aimed at me for catching him or at himself for being caught. Even as this thought pops into my head I can see some form of anxiety deep in his eyes.

The man's obviously new to this type of situation. And I'm, well, very rusty. It'd been a while since I'd done this sort of thing.

Wait . . . . Where did that thought come from? When had I last done this? Brief images of red fabric flash in my mind. A blurry man in a red suit. It gives me a headache to think about.

I end up cringing and as a result I'm the first to blink. My guest grins at my defeat. I can only sigh. "Don't go anywhere." I get up and go into the fridge. Need something strong to get over all this shit I've been dealing with. That brief image of a man clad in red lingers in my thoughts. No clue as to what it means. Guess I'll cross that bridge when I have to.

I come back and reclaim my seat, now with a bottle of absinthe in one hand and the 1911 in the other.

Since his mouth isn't bound he tries to make conversation. "What do you want with me?"

I drink a swig out of the bottle. "I could ask you the same. Who sent you?" He remains silent. I take another gulp of absinthe. "Fine. Let's start simple. What's your name?"

He glares at me. "Fuck you."

I chuckle at this. "Phuk Yu? That sounds foreign." He blinks in confusion. The joke completely flew over his head.

I sigh. "My name's Dante. Dante Di Prinzi. Heard of me?" He's gone silent again. I smile at him. "I'll take that as a yes. Want some?" I shake the bottle in front of him.

He scowls at me. "I don't drink that shit."

I just calmly nod, one hand under my chin as if I'm pondering something. "That's a shame." I get up from the chair again.

He looks up at me. "What?"

Without answering, I grab the chair he's seated at and fling him into a wall. He smashes into it and the chair falls over. I walk over to him. Now he's struggling to get out. He looks up at me once more, this time with an anguished expression. I stare at him with a cold glare. Then I pour the absinthe on him. Sure it's a waste of good alcohol but the result is somewhat satisfying.

At first he's shouting profanity at me, then some of it gets into his gunshots. His curses become screams.

"Had to sterilize it."

He manages to calm down enough to speak. "What . . . do . . . you . . . think this . . . is? The . . . movies?!"

I just stare at him. "Nope, I just heard it was painful. If I thought this was the movies I would be tossing a lighter on you right about now." He starts to struggle again. Idly I point the 1911 at him. It stops his struggling. He's still twitching a bit from the pain. Poor guy even bit his lower lip pretty hard. It's starting to bleed.

I pick him and the chair up and set him back into his former sitting position. "So, what did you say your name was?" He spits on my face. I slowly wipe the spittle away and sigh. "Ok Phuk Yu, you want to be that way?"

I get up and start searching through the house. Eventually I find what I was looking for. An unopened box. One that contains a speaker for my MP3 player. When I said this house was practically the same as the other one I meant it. Always buy things in pairs. I set up the speaker and pulled out my MP3 player.

Then I returned to my friend. "Thought I'd play some music. You know, to lighten the atmosphere and all that."

He stares at me like I'm stupid. The song I pick is one I reserved for situations like this. Unfortunately it's not 'Stuck in the Middle with You'. Instead it's the gem 'Call Me Maybe' by Carly Rae Jepsen. For once, Canada has given me something I can use. Other than maple syrup.

Though I could have used Justin Bieber like the CIA did, I avoided doing so. I wanted to be somewhat original. The song starts playing as loud as possible and my guest's eyes widen in shock. The words that come from his mouth cause my eyes to widen in shock too.

"This is my favorite song." The way he says it tells me he's being genuine.

My only question is, "You speak English?"

He nods and replies in an accented but understandable English. "Yes, I went to America. Too many fat people so I came back to Japan."

Well that was sporadic. Then he starts singing the song. Motherfucker memorized the lyrics. Gone is the defiant thug that had tried to kill me and was resisting torture. He was replaced by a grown man singing a song meant for adolescent teenage girls with boy trouble. The wonders of music. Or else maybe this piece of shit was mocking me. The lopsided grin on his face shows genuine happiness. That kind of denies that theory. He continues singing the song until it ends.

Then we just sit there in silence. Not quite sure as to how to continue this. I'm fairly certain he's got a few screws loose in that noggin of his. "So . . . . That was . . . telling."

He replies with the straightest face. "Could you play it again?" The guy seems to have forgotten the entire point of me playing it in the first place.

I don't think this is how an interrogation is supposed to go down. Maybe I should have just water boarded him.

"Why do you even like this song? It hasn't been popular since it first came out."

"September 20, 2011."

"What?"

"That's when it was first released. Almost eight years ago."

I kind of just stare at him. I don't know what else to do. The man knows trivia about a stupid pop song for little girls. What do you say to that?

"Would you play it again? You can sing with me if you want." Does he think it's karaoke night or some shit? We're not two buddies getting drinks at a bar. For fucks sake, I vaguely threatened to set him on fire.

"What the fuck?"

He furiously nods his head. "This song, it makes me so happy, it takes away the pain."

"Ok . . . ?" Wasn't my job to grant him pain? I was the interrogator, not his damn therapist.

He nods again. "Let us sing!"

I just open my mouth in a state of awe. "Fuck no."

He glares at me. "Ah, I see. You are one of those men that is not confident in his sexuality."

"Where the hell did that even come from?"

He smirks at me. "You seemed like a man who did not care about the world. Yet you fear for your masculinity."

At this point I'm feeling a combination of anger, confusion, and doubt. "No. I don't 'fear for my masculinity', asshole."

He smiles. A smile that says 'gotcha bitch'. "Yes, you seem like the type of man that really likes assholes."

Was that a gay joke? This dipshit just said a gay joke. A shitty joke at that. To the man who was going to torture him. While he was a crude motherfucker, I had to at least say he had balls. "Am I supposed to be insulted by that?" He shrugs. Clearly I should have tied him up tighter.

"No one should be insulted by what they are." Well, this man went from common street thug to a motivational speaker in the blink of an eye. "But you're still a fag." This. Fucking. Guy. I stare him straight in the eyes. That was uncalled for.

"No. This is a fag." I pull a cigarette out of my pocket. "And you're a piece of shit."

He grins. "You aren't even British."

I chuckle. "Tea and crumpets, bitch." Then I light the cigarette. Taking a quick drag calms my nerves.

"You must think you're some type of badass. Cigarettes and alcohol. It's like a little kid trying to be a man."

"Like you're one to judge. Your favorite song's 'Call Me Maybe', bet your yakuza buddies would love to hear that."

He actually laughs at this. "They agree with me. Karaoke nights are fun." He's giving me a headache. "And it appears you already know who sent me. Any particular reason for this interrogation?"

Well he caught me. This guy's smarter than he looks. "I was hoping you'd have info on who he's working with actually."

He flashes a grin. "Why didn't you just ask?"

"There's no way it's that easy." He shrugs again.

"My loyalty is to my boss. His partners don't matter to me." That's not good business.

"Tell me who they are."

He smirks at me. "First you got to do something for me." Oh, damn, I'm getting bad vibes from this.

"What do you want?"

He starts laughing hysterically. This definitely confirms the loose screws theory. "Sing with me!"

I can only sigh. "Ok, I'll do it." He smiles. It's like he did actually forget the whole 'getting shot' thing. I turn on the music.

Then I start a duet with the dude who tried to kill me. The dude I shot in the ass. This is some really surreal shit to think about.

We alternated lines, with me starting. "I threw a wish in the well."

"Don't ask me I'll never tell."

"I looked at you as it fell."

"And now you're in my way." This continued until we got to the chorus. At that point we sang at the same time. Our singing voices clashed awfully.

The part that goes "Hey, I just met you and this is crazy" sounded like two bellowing tomcats that needed to get laid.

At the end of the song this dipshit just sat there with a smug grin on his face, moving his head up and down in approval. Asshole reminded me of a bobblehead. I wanted to punch him in the face. Or at least cuss him out.

He was the first to speak though. "You need to work on your singing. But it was still fun." This made me want to just shoot him and be done with it. My itchy trigger finger aches, but I cast those thoughts away. "Want to sing again?" Hearing such a question makes me think I'm going even more insane.

Instead I just sigh. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

My guest smiles at me. "Does that mean you're admitting I'm a better singer?"

I grunt at this. "Fine, one more time. Then tell me what I want to know."

Nero's POV

Finding Praetor turned out to be harder than I thought. Of course that idiot Berserker had not really helped with her vague and ultimately useless information.

Night had fallen on the city, and to emphasize this point the streets were aglow with bright colors. From the traffic lights to the neon signs, it all blended into a quite gorgeous scene. If I did not have a more pressing concern it was very much possible that I would have gotten lost in the beauty the nightlife of this city had to offer.

My wonder was dashed away rather soon however, when I happened upon a store selling televisions. They were amazing pieces of work. Even I could concede that these marvels impressed me in how easily they could transfer information. Unfortunately the news they were currently broadcasting was rather displeasing.

_In recent news, a suspected murderer by the name of Dante Di Prinzi has escaped from police custody. During his escape he managed to release several other prisoners as well. Most of them were found and subdued, however Di Prinzi himself managed to get away. The escape attempt resulted in several officers suffering severe wounds. Three were hospitalized and are in critical condition. _

If I cared less about my public appearance I would have allowed my jaw to drop at this news. Praetor had mentioned nothing about having to escape from the police. The newscaster continued to speak, and I found myself unable to look away.

_Di Prinzi was apprehended for multiple charges, the most sickening being the murder of a little girl. His record also include seven separate murders, one attempted murder, and eleven counts of grand theft auto._

The newscaster paused for a second, as if further information was being told to her. I waited with bated breath.

_Correction, twelve counts of grand theft auto. It's just been reported that during the escape he stole a police cruiser. The cruiser was later found to have been rammed into another police officer's vehicle. The officer died from the collision. Both vehicles were set on fire in front of Di Prinzi's house. The house was also on fire. Di Prinzi is suspected as being the cause of the arson and the vehicular homicide. He is considered to be armed and very dangerous. Contact the authorities if you see him. _

At this point they put a picture of Praetor on the screen. He still had that stupid smug grin. I did not know what to make of this news. The other murders were particularly unpleasant to hear about. It was probably from his past. Maybe I should ask him about it. The part about the house being on fire was also rather displeasing. That simpleton never gave me the WiFi password!

_In other news, a recent spree of homicides have perplexed local authorities. The victims are often found with multiple stab wounds and. . . ._

At this moment something rather strange happened. Something that seemed to be a testament of my A rank luck, but strange nonetheless.

It took my attention away from the televisions. Two men limped past me. Both looked like stereotypical scum. The one had hair that was unnaturally greasy, the other had the moustache of a prepubescent teen. Both were walking as if they were in pain. It felt like the gods had dropped these two upon me, so on a whim I fancied the idea of asking them if they knew where Praetor was.

Walking up to them caused them to guard themselves as if I might strike them. This quickly stopped once they saw my appearance. Then they stared at me as a wolf might look upon a lamb. I appreciated their admiration, no matter how lustful it happened to be.

"Hello, I was wondering if you have seen a man in a white leather jacket. He has blond hair. Honey colored eyes. He is about this tall." I even went so far as to display his height to them by extending my hand several inches over my head. It was rather unflattering.

Both of them gaped at me. Their looks of admiration were gone, replaced by ones of fear. They attempted to speak, but their words came out as a stuttering and mumbling mess. Pure gibberish in its finest form. In order to dispel their misguided fears I offered a bright cheerful smile.

It seemed to help and the greasy one started speaking. "House. Up the street. Between the electronics store and the noodle shop. Can't miss it." His manner of speech was unsettling, each sentence was separated with long pauses, as if he was catching his breath. It was almost like was stricken with such terror that he could only manage short phrases one at a time.

That sounded ridiculous. Praetor seemed incapable of such an act. Either way, I felt incredibly lucky to have found someone who knew where he was. Now I just had to find that house.

I thanked the two men. They just nodded, before curiously walking into an alleyway and collapsing on a pile of trash. It was rather strange, but they seemed to be that type. With how Praetor acted it was no wonder his friends were odd.

I made my way up the street. It did not take long before I found the house they spoke of. The one between the noddle shop and the electronics store. The house was not that impressive. In fact it was kind of plain. Really boring looking, to be honest. But it made sense that he would choose such a place if the police were after him.

There was one eye-catching characteristic the house had. The front door, along with the wall, had several dozen holes in it. Almost as if it had been barraged by an enemy. The thought pushed me to rush inside through the tattered door.

The sight I received was unnerving to say the least. The first room was empty. A couch sat in shambles in front of me. The wall behind it too had the holes from outside. That was not what unnerved me.

Finding Praetor is what did.

He was in the room to the side of the front room. His white jacket was off. A bottle of alcohol was tipped over near his feet. There was a man in front of him, tied to a folding chair. And Praetor . . . currently he was strangling that man. All of this hit me. The mental image itself overwhelmed me. It caused me to drop the two briefcases I had carried here. They fell to the floor with a thud.

Then the music got the attention of my senses. It did not fit this situation at all. A cheerful pop song about some girl wanting the attention of her crush. Perhaps if the situation was different I would have enjoyed hearing it. Instead I watched as Praetor choked the life of a man. "Praetor . . . ." My voice came out as a whisper, but apparently it got his attention.

He turned around, still grasping the neck of the man in front of him. Then he flashed me a smile. A small fake smile. The look in his eyes was the same one he had when he had shot at me. The look he had when he told me I knew nothing of him. That cold, hard look. The bored expression one would have when viewing something they deem unimportant. I would have felt insulted if this had been any other scenario.

Instead it just made me feel . . . alone. As if I was unwelcomed.

"Oh, hi there Saber. Wasn't expecting you this soon. It's a shame, I wanted to make something to welcome you." At this point he released the man, who slumped over in the chair trying to catch his breath. I noticed the man's nose was broken as well. The red marks on Praetor's knuckles explained the cause of it.

"Unfortunately I had an unexpected guest arrive. I've been entertaining him. I'll be with you in just a moment." At this he pulled a gun out. I recognized it as the same one he had used against me in the hotel.

The man in front of him started panicking. "Don't do it man, I told you everything I know!" That is when he saw me. His eyes widened in shock. "Lady please, don't let him do this! Stop him. Call the cops. Do something!"

Praetor just chuckled at him. He looked back to me. "Saber, this guy is a common thug. He tried to kill me by spraying a machine pistol at my house." That explained the holes. This information made me glare at the man.

He spit out a few words in an attempt to defend himself. "I said I'm sorry! It was just a job! What more do you want? I told you everything."

At this Praetor lowered his gun and got in the face of the man. "Do you know why I don't cover my face?"

The man nodded 'no'.

"It's not because I fear the people you can bring down on me. No, it's because I don't give a damn. Letting you go would cause me problems down the line, but I'd handle them and then I'd get payback on you."

The man started mouthing 'I won't tell anyone' but Praetor ignored him. "I'm getting rid of you because you pissed me off. You really pissed me off, at the end of a long and shitty day you were that one last little asshole that couldn't fuck off." Praetor raised his gun and placed it right against the temple of the man.

I could not stand to watch this. "Praetor. Not like this."

He glanced at me in shock. For a moment his eyes gained some emotions. He actually smiled. "Saber." My name was a whisper. It looked like I had finally reached out to him.

Then he stopped smiling, stood up, and unloaded his gun at the man. The loud pop music was still playing. I closed my eyes.

There was a shriek from the man followed by crying.

Upon opening my eyes I found the crying was coming from the man. He was still alive, several bullet holes surrounded him. His pants were soiled.

Praetor glanced at the gun in his hand. "Oh, look, I'm out of ammo. Such a shame, I should really improve my aim." He walked out of the room, turning the music off as he did. "Saber, could you cut him loose? I already cleaned blood today, I'm not cleaning piss." His hollow words caused me to shudder, but I approached the man as he asked.

He looked to me with eyes filled with gratitude. His voice was coarse from the shriek but he managed to speak. "Thank you."

I silenced him with a raised hand. "Never attempt harm upon his head again, or I shall personally have my way with you. Crucifixion would feel like a blessing once I were done." Any words he might have said were lodged in his throat.

I cut the tape that bound him and tell him to leave. He staggers to his feet and then bolts out of the house with an awkward gait. I watch him leave, still a bit disturbed by the whole experience. Yet again Praetor has given me more questions than answers. First the news of his arrest and escape, and now this.

When the door shuts I immediately turn towards Praetor. He is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, hands in his pockets and a blank expression on his face. His composure confused me. If he felt remorse for his actions he did not show it. Nor did he appear pleased by what he did.

Either of these emotions would have been understandable. It would depend on the character of the person. Ashamed for being unnecessarily violent to someone who could not defend themselves, or else pleased from properly punishing someone who committed an injustice. Praetor . . . he showed neither emotion. In fact, he showed nothing at all.

I could not read him. He just seemed bored with the entire situation. As if the acts of violence he had shown were inconsequential to him. The questions I had wanted to ask slipped from my mind. Instead I could only stare in surprise. I was seeing a completely different side of Praetor, one that he had only shown a handful of times before. One that was foreign to me. It was something I could not handle.

It shattered my hopes for him. I had thought it possible to 'heal' him. To truly learn who he is and to fix that broken shell that recklessly risked its life. Instead I was faced with it, and it seemed all the more impossible that I could even attempt to crack through this impassive side of him. Impossible . . . .

No! I could not simply give up like this. Impossible? For me?! I do not know the meaning of that word. No! I am an emperor, I am Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, and I can do whatever I set my mind to.

Praetor came to me to ask for help. Even after I had left him. Even though he knew my identity. He accepted it, and came to me in his time of need. It would be wrong of me to turn down the request of a loyal subject. Even if the aforementioned subject had suicidal tendencies and a mouth that never ceased to annoy me.

"What are you thinking about?" His question shook me from my thoughts. I jumped a bit at his sudden intrusion.

My mind quickly caught up, and an answer spilled out on its own. "I was thinking about you."

His face remained neutral at the revelation. "Anything in particular?"

I shook my head 'no'. "Just trying to process all of this." I gestured with my hands while saying this, a motion that meant to incorporate everything that happened.

He sighed. "It's a lot to take in." He said this as if he were addressing himself. He pushed off from the wall and walked over to his fridge. After opening it he asked if I wanted a drink. I declined. "Suit yourself."

He grabbed a bottle containing a clear liquid and took a seat at the couch. His cigarette was snuffed out in an ashtray. I remained standing, simply watching him act, and trying to think of what I wanted to ask him. He drank straight from the bottle, and then pointed at the briefcases. "You brought them with you. Thanks." I could only nod.

He lacked the urgency he had when he had arrived at the hotel. I suddenly felt like I had made a mistake in coming here. As if I had been deceived. He put the bottle down on the table near him. "So, when do you want to get started? People to kill and all that." The way he said it was so different from how he seemed in the hotel. He spoke as if it was a chore he wanted to complete as fast as possible.

"What is this?" The question just came out. My tone was incredulous.

He merely raised an eyebrow at it. "We're going to find and kill the guy who's been sending these chumps at me."

"What about the girl?"

"Don't worry about it." Time seemed to stop. What had happened to his passion? His desire for revenge? While I may not fully agree with it, it was at least better than complacency.

Now he had dismissed it. Clearly there was something wrong with Praetor. I had wanted to help him, I still did, yet this manner of speech was again weakening my resolve.

"You were framed as the murderer. You vowed revenge. You were arrested and broke free in order to come to me for help! How can I 'not worry about it'?!"

I could tell that he was clenching his teeth. "I said, 'don't worry about it'." He stated this with some venom in his voice. It seemed like he had not dismissed her death. That gave me hope for him. "This guy's trying to kill me. The one who killed Plus isn't."

He did have a point. Still I could not just let myself be treated as some killer for hire. I was no errand boy. "But . . . that is not why I am here."

He sighed. "Well, I did say you arrived early. I plan on getting rid of this guy soon. You can stay here while I'm away. It won't take long." His words were cold, calculated. It was so unlike him. Gone was that glimpse of emotion he had allowed to resurface momentarily.

"Praetor. What is wrong?" My response was a vacant stare. I believe it would properly be deemed the 'thousand-yard stare'. I had seen that look from many veterans. Especially in those who had returned after crushing the revolt in Britannia. "Why are you behaving like this? Who was that man?"

"I told you, just some thug. His boss is the one I'm after." He completely ignores my first question.

I would not let him get off that easy.

"The other question?"

He glares at me. "What about it?"

I sigh. "Why are you acting like this? We last met only a few hours ago, you were the same buffoon you always are. Now you are different."

He softly chuckled. "Our last meeting didn't really go that well."

At this my eyes narrowed. "You brought up my deceased daughter. Do you not think that was cruel?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he answered. "I didn't really know what else could get through to you." I didn't know what to say to that. He seemed genuine.

That's when he stood up rather suddenly. He took a few steps towards me. I tensed at his approach. He came closer than he had ever before, even closer than he had been while confronting me in the hotel. I looked up, directly into his eyes, and glared at him. Praetor just smiled. A small, sad smile. Then he did something I never expected.

He embraced me.

The action was so sudden that I could not react. I could not push him away. Instead it felt like I melted in his arms. My arms went slack at my sides. My tension left in his embrace. He was softer than I expected.

I glanced up at him in shock, he was looking straight ahead and avoiding my eyes. "Forgive me. I went too far." This was the first time he had sincerely apologized to me. I could tell it was sincere from his tone of voice.

He was no longer cold, nor was he bitter, instead he sounded broken. As if he might collapse at any moment. I returned his hug, by wrapping my arms around him as well. "I forgive you, Praetor." I whispered these words into his chest, as we stood there locked in an embrace.

He seemed to relax at this. A deep sigh escaped his lips, as if a burden had been taken off his chest. "Thank you. For forgiving me, and also for returning to me, mia cara." He looked directly into my eyes.

I could swear that I saw tears building up in the corners of his eyes. "A lot's come up. On top of everything that's already happened. It gets to be a bit too much, y'know?" I nodded in understanding. This was a moment of weakness Praetor had not shown for a while.

"Perhaps I should apologize as well."

He blinked once in confusion. "How come?"

Briefly I glanced away from him. "For leaving you."

He started chuckling. "Don't worry about it."

I frowned at him. "Is that all you can say? Maybe if I had been at your side things could have. . . ."

He shook his head. "No. You can't think like that. Ifs and buts won't help anything." A large grin was plastered on his face. "All that matters is that you're here now. The present is what's most important."

I was speechless at this. The man was strange. He shifted personalities on the dime. And while he held grudges against some that he perceived had wronged him, he was quick to forgive those he felt were not at fault. I was not sure if it was touching or worthy of concern. He was certainly unpredictable.

Praetor started chuckling. "On a side note, this is reminding me about the time we first met."

I gave him a puzzled look. "How so?"

He keeps laughing. It is good to see he has cheered up somewhat. "Just, my initial thoughts on your appearance."

I smirked at him. "Oh? What were those thoughts? Nothing too risqué, I hope." It was meant to come across as a slight tease. Either he did not catch that, or else he ignored it.

"You want to hear the Mario reference? Or should I tell you the joke about how your coin slot is larger than a vending machine's?"

I could only tilt my head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean by this?"

His grin grew farther than I thought possible. "Well, you see you're like a plumber."

That insulted me a bit. "A plumber? I am an emperor!"

He cracked up in laughter. "An emperor that shows way too much of her crack!"

At this I pushed him away from me. I had been hoping for something different. Instead I could only shake my head at his response. He just kept laughing, clearly not fazed by my rejection.

"Praetor, will you at least tell me who we are going after?"

Abruptly he stopped laughing. It was like a switch had been flicked inside him. "Just the guy who betrayed me. From your earlier comment I'm guessing you've heard the parts I'd intentionally left out at the hotel." I nodded.

He shrugged. "I apologize for not telling you. I couldn't exactly say I staged a jailbreak with Rin there." Praetor did not sound that apologetic.

"That sounds like a cheap excuse." I cross my arms in front of my chest.

Again he shrugs. "It is. That little altercation with the cops wasn't something I'm proud of. Getting caught is something I try to avoid." The nonchalant way in which he states this is worrying, but I let the subject drop.

I have other concerns at hand. Namely the question of his past. "Praetor, I want to ask you something."

He gives me a puzzled look. "Ask away."

"I also heard about the murders you committed. . . . Why?"

A long tired sigh came from him. "I don't really know."

I search him for any trace of deceit. Any semblance of a lie. From what I can tell he appears to be telling the truth. "What does that mean?"

He chuckled. It lacked the mirth from a moment before. Instead it was bitter. "That there could be more than just those eight."

There was a period of silence between us. It took me a moment to respond. "Praetor, would you have killed that man if I were not here?"

"Yes." He answers without hesitation. It chills me to the bone.

"Why?"

He shrugs. As if it is a sufficient answer to such a question. "He angered me."

That truly unnerves me. "And those other crimes?"

He takes a long drink from his bottle. "Some I remember, some I don't."

I frowned at this. "Praetor, give me a clear answer."

He pauses for a moment. I can hear him gulp down his own saliva. "I'll tell you everything I know. Everything I've realized or figured out."

I relaxed at this. I truly wanted to know more about the man who seemed to understand me. Even if it meant learning of the evils he committed. "Thank you, Praetor."

He closed his eyes and started to speak.

Dante's POV

My past has always been kind of fuzzy to think about. But it didn't really feel all that important. I did what I did every day and accepted it as my life. I knew a few things about myself so that was enough to satiate any curiosity I might have.

Once I have a task I can keep my mind off things. Maybe that's why I was working for no reason. Maybe it's why I decided to fight with you. Forgetting something only works as long as you forgot you forgot it. If I remembered that I was forgetting something I would have worked to remember it.

Keeping my mind off of that let me sit in blissful ignorance. The few things I did remember kept me in a nice mixture of self-pity and depression. Which feels shitty. But it let me feel like I was a victim. Like the world owed me for all the things I dealt with.

I don't know how true that is anymore. I don't really feel like a victim anymore. I feel like the culprit. That feels even shittier.

The few things I knew about myself could be written on a square of toilet paper. I was the heir to a wealthy family. A magus family. They didn't like me, and I didn't like them. I never had a voice in what went on.

You know about Harry Potter?

No? Shit.

What about Cinderella?

No? Did that Grail tell you a damn thing?!

Anyway, I was basically stuck in a room most of the day. Sitting in the dark. Not sure if it was dark because there wasn't a light or because I was so edgy I insisted in wallowing in the shadows. It was all basically hell. Or perhaps purgatory would be a better comparison.

Then my teacher showed up. At first he was just another paid prick, but in time I grew to like him. He helped me out in my time of need, and gave me someone to talk to. That's something I always liked.

Talking. It was a talent of mine. You can imagine why not being able to speak was torture to me.

I had a puppy once. It was fun to play with it, to speak to it. Then they had me kill it.

You know what's the problem with this?

Not the dead dog, no this story.

It doesn't feel real anymore! Just saying it out loud makes it feel like a joke. Like something an idiot would come up with when trying to write a tragic character. I'm not tragic because life dealt me a shit hand.

I'm not tragic at all! I deal my own hand. I make my own luck. I'm me!

There's some more stuff about me escaping with my teacher and eventually traveling to Japan.

None of it adds up. Timewise that is. The years and dates are sometimes fuzzy, but from what I can remember the math doesn't add up correctly.

It's what told me something was fishy.

A few of the crimes happened during that time. Mainly against goons that tried to reclaim me for the family.

You know how goddamn scary it is when that seems false? Killing in self-defense is one thing. It takes a lot out of you. It crushes your soul. But the fact that you did it to save yourself at least lets you sleep at night. You don't sleep that well, but eventually you sleep.

Well now I have a bunch of crimes pinned on me, and half of are things I don't know about. I just accept it.

Why? Well, because when everything you used to know ends up being false why would you question anything new you learn? I'm like a newborn baby. I need something to cling to. I need something to believe in. Something to at least help me understand.

Seriously, the only thing I was right about was my name. Deep down I knew it wasn't Dante. That makes me a bit sad, but now I know what it is.

Huh? It's Thomas. Thomas Victors. Just call me Dante, there's a reason I chose it. It sounds cooler.

I was even wrong with my age. I thought I was eighteen. Apparently I'm not.

How old am I?

What the hell does it matter? You're a cougar to me no matter how old I am.

Watch where you point that thing! It's sharp.

Why the hell did the Grail tell you what 'cougar' means, of all things?

And by the way, you're blushing even while threatening me. It's confusing.

Alright, alright, I'll get back to the story of my life. Dammit that's a One Direction song. Forget I said that. Don't worry about what One Direction is. It's insignificant to what I'm telling you.

What about the cop you say? What cop?

Oh. The one who died.

I don't know how that happened.

It wasn't me.

Who was it?

Don't know. I just don't know. Stop asking about it Saber.

I just don't know what happened with that. I swear. It wasn't me.

The house? Well, I couldn't let them have any leeway over me. They probably got most of the evidence they needed, but that doesn't mean I have to make their jobs any easier. Ok, I admit, it was stupid to just set the thing on fire.

But some people just want to watch things burn. I happen to be one of those people. Besides, this house has most of the same stuff.

No, it's not a two story house.

Yes, the other one was.

Just drop it ok. Back to my past. The greatest part about all of that being fake is that it means my teacher still has a chance of being alive. Damn, I wouldn't put it past that bastard to have done this to my head. He was a clever guy. If he's out there I'll find him. Then he can clear some things up.

What do you mean 'what things'? Everything I've been talking about. My memories for one. And also why the damn Harweys are involved in this. Yeah, the Harweys. That's what I got from that punk you let go.

Uragiri, the guy who betrayed me to the cops, talked about someone being involved who had more money and power than I had. That someone is the Harwey family. They killed Plus. It's going to be hard to take them down. Damn near impossible. I'll be taking on the wealthiest and most powerful family on Earth. But they're the ones who did it. I'm going to take on Uragiri first. He's going to tell me all he knows. I'm going to kill him, and them I'm going after the Harweys.

Yeah it'll be tough. Frankly it's suicide.

You in?

* * *

**AN: I tried to finish this within a months time. I was a bit off, but I suppose it's close enough. Nero's POV was the thing that delayed me. I rewrote her 'reunion' with Dante at least five times. Let me know if you guys liked how it turned out. Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I managed to get this out somewhat earlier in comparison to past chapters! Though it's a bit shorter. Pros and cons I suppose.**

* * *

**Chapter 15- Hyde and Seek**

"You in?"

She smiled at me. It was a smile I couldn't read. For once in my life I felt nervous. Nervous about her answer. Would she say yes? Or had I botched it all.

Her smile didn't seem genuine. Or at least not a genuinely happy smile. In fact it looked a bit sad. I had no idea what that meant. I felt sick with apprehension. The tension in the air was unbearable.

To make matters worse, it was at this moment that I remembered I hadn't eaten in a long time. My queasy stomach didn't exactly improve how I was feeling. It felt like hours had gone by before she finally spoke.

"Of course Praetor."

Her answer was only three words, but those three words took an enormous weight off of my shoulders. It meant I had an ally. A very powerful ally. One that could help me get things done that I couldn't necessarily do myself. Grail War be damned, I have bigger fish to fry. With Saber, no, with Nero at my side I had a chance.

Still, I was taking on the Harweys. The strongest family in the world. What had I gotten into? Where was I even going with this? Even though Nero just accepted helping me, I know deep down she doesn't really have that much of a desire to chase after mundane people because of some half-baked revenge scheme. A revenge scheme concocted to avenge a girl who I knew for barely a day. A girl who by all rights was my enemy. She sent that monster to kill me. She ruined my car for fucks sake!

What was I doing? Why was I doing this? It all seemed too convenient. I was purposefully getting involved in things I had no business in. This all seemed like a spider web of lies. A conspiracy far larger than me. Yet here I was, happily charging into battle instead of playing it safe. For what? Vengeance? My memories? Or was this just me satisfying myself. Risking myself for the adrenaline. Challenging myself to alleviate the boredom.

"Praetor, why are you smiling?" Her sudden question reminded me that I wasn't alone. Was I smiling?

"Because I'm happy."

She smirked at me. "Really Praetor? It makes me happy to hear that."

Oh go to hell. You ditched me at a moment's notice . . . . What? I don't know where those thoughts came from. Is that how I really feel? Do I resent her? I stared at the girl in front of me. That's right. She left when the going got tough. She wasn't ready to risk it all. Instead she played it safe.

I couldn't rely on her too much. I certainly couldn't trust her. At a moment's notice she could rush off again. Give me some bullshit excuse about how it's my fault and how I need to change right as she walks out.

That settles it. I'll use her. She'll be my sword. And she'll grant me my memories. In return I'll let her use me. I'll be the hand that wields her. For a sword is useless without a swordsman, but a swordsman could do just fine with his only fists.

The problem is when an unarmed swordsman has to fight an armed swordsman. That's why I need her. I'm going against the best of the best. People with blank checks and itchy trigger fingers. I need more than just my fists. But I'm no swordsman. So she's wasted potential on me. I'm a gunman, I need a gun. Something that is cold and efficient. Not something that comes with flair and passion. Maybe I can trade her?

No! Can't think like that. She's a person. I need to trust her, need to get her to trust me.

"Praetor? Is something wrong?" Need to think about this some other time. Nero was giving me a perplexed look. Eyebrow raised and all.

I merely waved off her concern. "I'm perfectly fine. Just thinking."

She smiled. "About what?" It feels like something's picking through my brain. Some foreign entity. Maybe that's just me overthinking things. I'm going on the defensive for no reason.

I just have to think of a quick excuse. "Well . . . there's the matter of your command spells."

Again she raised an eyebrow. "Ah, you did forfeit them." Yeah, I did, didn't I? What about the tattoo on my hand? Could I fake her out with that? Trick her into thinking I didn't forfeit them? Is she dumb enough to buy that lie and submit to me? Shit, my head hurts.

I glance at the tattoo. She sees it and opens her mouth in a shocked expression. "You did not forfeit them?!" She points at them. No? Did I? Are these real or fake? I don't know! I can't remember what I did. I waved and uttered some bullshit line. Is it that easy to get rid of command spells? Or was I bluffing?

Surely she would have disappeared by now had I not gotten rid of them. Then why hadn't she felt my presence as her master, why hadn't I been speaking to her in my head? Was it because of my weak magical signature? I was running on low strength. In fact I was basically running without magic at all.

Like a car running on fumes. It was Plus that filled my tank so to speak. Maybe that's why I wanted to avenge her. So did this mean I not only tricked Nero into thinking I'd given her up, but that I even tricked myself? I must be the best goddamn liar on Earth if that's the case. Pesci, wouldn't that be funny? I'll talk to Rin about this. Maybe she knows something.

Before that I'll just play it off to Nero. "What? You think I'd be so dumb I'd give you up so easily?"

"Really? I did not think you to be a tactician?" That's insulting. I'm smart. Kinda. Right now I have to hit her with some corny romance line that might work in dispelling her questions.

I got it! "Did you really think I'd give up a good thing that easily? I just wanted to let you cool down." Gold! Hot damn maybe I had a nagging girlfriend or something in my past. Because I am certainly a smooth operator.

"Praetor, do you really think I could be flattered so easily?" Shit! Think Dante think! I need to do the 'successful politician' move. Double down and stick to your guns. No matter how idiotic it might be.

"No. Did it seem like flattery? I was perfectly sincere with that praise. I find it insulting that you'd suggest otherwise." Yes! Turn the burden of proof on her. That way she's on the defensive.

Nero flushed bright red at that. "You were sincere?" Checkmate, I win.

"Of course. You're Nero after all. I can't let a magnificent bastard such as you escape me that easily. You're perfect." I'm going to wash my mouth out with bleach after this conversation. I hate this groveling shit. But I need to win her over so I can use her.

I wouldn't do this if I could trust her. But I can't, so I'll compliment the hell out of her to get on her good side. It'll end up benefitting the both of us in the end. Maybe she'll prove to me that she's worthy of compliments like these. Then it won't be insincere now will it?

"Perfect?" She repeated what I said. Almost as if she was trying to accept it. Funny, considering she often said how perfect she was. Saber was still blushing quite heavily.

I'd noticed this happening every time I said something remotely positive to her. I was just going to go on a limb and conclude she had some weird one-sided feelings for me. I didn't fully understand why. Maybe she was desperate and vulnerable or some shit. She did seem like the type of girl to have daddy issues or some shit.

Well that's rather lucky. I can probably use it to my advantage. She eats up this pandering bullshit rather easily. If I continue telling her what she wants to hear she might actually get some sort of emotional tie to me. That'll mean I can trust her. To some extent at least. Until then I have to take everything she says and does with a grain of salt.

She manages to finally respond to me. Her arms are on her hips, and she's puffing up her chest. A large grin is on her face and her eyes are closed. Clearly she's metaphorically wanking herself off. At least she's doing that for her ego. I'm getting the impression that she has a low self-esteem, considering how she needs validation like this. Maybe I'm being too judgmental of her.

Her next words toss that thought to the side. "Well, well. It seems you have finally come to your senses Praetor. Perhaps now you will finally understand your place."

Fuck no. No. No. No. I can't just let her get away with saying that shit. I can't. There's too many things I can throw back at her. Must resist. Must. Resist. Temptation. It took a deep breath to avoid doing so, but I managed to not reply to her. If I thought she was the cunning type I would assume she said that just to get a rise out of me.

"Well, learning one's place is something that takes time after all." Just look at you. You haven't learned humility whatsoever. Jeez, I'm getting too bitter over this. It's like a negative presence is dictating my thoughts and actions. I can't let the past influence how I see her now. She's back, and I needed her back.

Damn, what's with all these contradictory thoughts? I go from wanting to manipulate her to wanting to forgive her. It's like I have a bunch of voices in my head. I can't let this beat me. Just one step at a time.

"Hey, you uh, ready to go after the guy who set me up?"

She frowned at this before shrugging. "Sure Praetor. Betrayal is not something I like anyway." Then why did you argue over killing him so much? Why put me through all of this? Once again Nero, you don't make a lick of sense. Maybe I'm the one who doesn't make sense.

"Alright. Let's go." I holster the Nagant revolver in my pants. The suppressor goes in my pocket. It won't be silent like in the movies, but it'll be quieter than an unsuppressed gun. Just for that extra kick I grab the 1911 as well. It'd pack more of a punch than the Nagant. It'd be necessary if things go south.

The rest of the guns are left in the house. I grab a few bills from a briefcase and stuff them in my wallet, just in case. The door's locked behind me. I remember where Uragiri lives, so I'm taking the shortest route to his house.

The thought that his wife and kids may be home as well makes me a bit anxious. Don't worry about it Dante. This won't involve them. You're just shooting the guy and leaving. They'll be fine.

Sure, they might have some psychological problems from witnessing their father and husband get murdered in front of them. Sure, you might give them depression, and perhaps they might start self-harming, or even go all the way and commit suicide. Yeah, that's dark.

But hell, maybe I'll create the next motherfucking Batman.

Nero's quiet as we walk. It's kind of disturbing actually. I was expecting her to be a bit vocal about all this. Either more protesting, or else her attempting to at least make small talk. Instead she's completely quiet. Clearly this unsettles her. It makes me question if it's the right thing.

What am I doing? Killing the man who wronged me. Simple. Or is it? I'm killing a father, a husband. A terrible one, but a husband nonetheless. Why am I thinking of that?

It used to be so easy. . . .

Woah. What was that? That line of thought. It was dangerous. . . . More memories flooded back. They were more like pictures though. Of random men and women. Photos taken from a distance. I don't recognize any of them. That thought though. That was scary. I gotta get my mind off of all this.

Just think of this like a quest. A task to complete. It's just a job. Just business. That choice of wording gives me a massive headache. It stops me from continuing forward. I bend over in agony, grabbing my head between my hands.

Nero jumps a bit from the sudden action. She'd been gloomy over this, now she's concerned about me. Rushing to my side. Is she being sincere? No, she's just checking to see if her personal living battery is still ok. Can't think like that. Have to stop.

I prop myself against a nearby wall, and wait for the pain to pass over. A few thoughts rush me. Memories. Of what I don't know.

There's a van.

Tupac on the radio. Hail Mary.

A gun being cocked.

Someone saying 'turn that shit off'. I'm insulted.

Car stops.

People get out.

Gunfire.

Something that looks like magic. I can't tell what kind it is. It's just a bolt of light.

Some type of curse. Maybe a Gandr shot.

Then nothing.

Shit. The migraine stops. I'm looking up at Nero. Her eyes are filled with worry. It felt like someone was intruding in my thoughts. Was she invading my mind? Is that why this happened?!

A single word reaches into my mind. It's a foreign entity that states it. The 'voice' though is familiar. "_Sorry._" It's Nero. She looks a bit ashamed. Then her presence in my mind is gone. She's looking at me with a sad expression.

I can't even look her in the eye. I stand up and brush myself off. "You were in my head." She just nods. If I remember correctly servants can do that. Or rather both servants and masters can do it. To each other that is.

I never bothered with it, except maybe subconsciously when I was asleep. She never used it on me. I always assumed she was understanding enough to never cross that boundary. Maybe she's the reason I've been thinking strange thoughts recently? She broke my privacy and my mind's lashing out against her the only way it knows how. With a lot of pessimistic thoughts.

I don't know what to do. Tell her to stay out of my mind? That's what I would do normally. But her meddling brought me some glimpse of the past I don't understand. The past that's been rewritten.

So instead I settle for some compromise. "Watch where you go looking."

She hesitates, then she nods. Her face is quite serious. It hits me that she might not even know what I mean. What is she even going to go looking for? Is there even anything there? I don't even know what I mean anymore. The thought scares me a bit. Even though she doesn't know anything about me, she might know more about me than I know about me. Maybe it makes us even. I know a lot about her after all.

I have to watch what I show her though. My thoughts alone are acting as triggers for the memories. I didn't think that possible. Maybe she's been prodding. I wasn't expecting that. When did she start?

"Saber, go into your spirit form." She looks like she's about ready to protest, but she stops herself and simply follows my order. Her form vanishes from sight, but I can still feel her presence. It feels like a small burden just disappeared. Well, I suppose that's literal in this case. Now that I think about it isn't this the first time I had her go into spirit form? Wonder why? Guess it just ended up like that.

With Saber in spirit form we continue. She doesn't speak to me. She doesn't try to do that weird mind speak thing either. Instead we just walk in silence. The street's relatively empty. It's rather late at night now that I think about it. That would explain the lack of crowds. Then again there should be some type of night life.

That's when I realize what's happened. I've stepped into a boundary field. _Nero._ I toss her the thought. Seems she gets the picture. I can't tell how she reacts though, since she's invisible.

A form starts to approach us from the front. I don't know why, but everything about the person sets off alarm bells in my head. I can't see Saber, but I can feel her tense at his approach. The individual in front of us eventually gets close enough that I can make out their appearance.

He's a guy in his mid to late twenties. Probably around my age actually. His black hair's shoulder length. His eyes are strange. They match his black hair in color. Looking into them shows me nothing. They're extremely cold. To the extent that I visibly shiver after looking into them.

He's overdressed for the mild weather. A black fur coat of all things covers him. I'm totally calling PETA on this creep. Blue gloves are on his hands. Blue zipper pants and blue shoes match them in color. I've never seen an outfit like this. It's eccentric to say the least, and that's coming from the guy wearing a white leather jacket that doesn't fit, along with a pink t-shirt.

The man speaks in a voice without emotion. He sounds dead inside. "You are Dante Di Prinzi." It's not a question, more of a statement really. But clearly he knows me. Not that surprising considering I'm a wanted man, but whatever.

I can't really let my guard down with the boundary field around. I don't know what that does, hopefully it just keeps normal people away. There's also the unfortunate fact that I know who he is. Julius Belkisk Harwey. The number one assassin for the Harwey family.

"The one and only. You're JB right?" I just had to throw in a Justin Bieber reference there. Because seriously, fuck this guy. His fashion sense makes Lady Gaga look like a damn clothing savant.

He doesn't answer. Instead he stares. His cold, dead, emotionless stare. It's creepy as hell. I try to start some semblance of a conversation. Just to avoid the only reason he's probably here.

Being a damn assassin and whatnot. He's undoubtedly going to, you know, assassinate. And my ass does not want to get 'assinated'. It's much too nice for that. Maybe if they sent a ninja or some shit, but not this glorified Michael Jackson reject. Dude needs to totally 'beat it'.

I glance back to where Saber is in spirit form. In that moment of unpreparedness the dude acts. It's some seriously freaky shit. One second he's about fifty feet away. The next second he's rushing me like fucking Sonic the Hedgehog and I'm going for the 1911.

Unfortunately he's not some fat weirdo on DeviantArt and he's actually a quick fucker. Didn't mean it like that. You get the drift. He's on me before I can react. Shit. Again, not in that way.

I manage to draw the 1911 only for him to parry it away with the palm of his hand. He's abnormally strong. With just a small motion the gun is set flying out of my hand. The 1911 clatters to the ground.

For good measure JB throws in another hit. His actions are so swift, so fluid, that I can't even react to them. His open palm smashes into my lower stomach. Around the same area I got stabbed by Berserker, back when she was Lancer.

Instantly I can feel the wound reopen. As soon as his hand connects with me I can feel my entire body shift, as if I've been hit by a large gust of wind. My flesh jiggles from the force. The only thing that stops me from blasting off is his other hand. He uses it to lift me off the ground by my throat, and it's choking the shit out of me.

I hear Saber respond to this by rushing out of spirit form and . . . immediately facing the exact same fate. Courtesy of who I'm going to assume is Assassin. Ah, gingers and their lack of souls. Apparently it gives them the power of invisibility. Not spirit form, no he's actually holding her up while invisible.

She's kind of freaking out and spazzing around. I'd be laughing if I wasn't currently doing the exact same thing. To be honest I'm actually scared shitless. If JB let me glance down I'd probably see myself bleeding. And it's not that time of the month. The wound I got from Berserker is slowly causing me to bleed out. I can feel the warm liquid drain out of me.

Normally I'd be ecstatic over being this close to death. Instead I'm terrified. Maybe if it had been a closer fight. If I had even a chance of winning. This dude moves like Neo in the Matrix. And he's thoroughly defeated me by just running really fast. Does that mean Usain Bolt is my mortal nemesis?

More importantly, JB went for the throat. Which is a no-no. Other than going for the hair, it's probably the most dastardly attack. Since it takes away the only thing I'm truly good at. Speaking. My voice is completely cut off, and frankly that scares the hell out of me.

It doesn't help that I'm staring at wannabe Edward Cullen here, and he's doesn't really look too bothered about holding a man by the neck up in the air. It's almost like this is just another day on the job for him. His resume must have 1-800-choke dat hoe as a reference.

Now I'm just making jokes in my head. Probably because it takes my mind off of the lack of oxygen my lungs are receiving.

"Listen to me." His tone brings an end to my struggling. I seriously need to eat some more if a guy's able to pick me up with one hand. Or maybe he's just reinforced himself with magic. Or he's just swole. That could be the case.

"You're going to put an end to this ridiculous revenge scheme." How the hell did he know about that? Oh wait. He's a Harwey. They know pretty much everything that goes on in the world. He also has an invisible servant that's probably been stalking me since the beginning. Hope he didn't watch me take a piss. I'd have to immediately judge him.

"The man you're going after has been dealt with." Well that's not cool. That's like taking someone else's fries. Or eating the last piece of pizza. It's just something you don't do. As a courtesy. Apparently this guy's mother didn't teach him manners.

"Instead you will be bait." 'Bate'? Oh, you must mean Norman Bates. I can totally do that, just give me some chocolate syrup, a dress, and a mom fetish.

"The master of Lancer has been searching for you." Oh, he must mean that clown bitch. Yeah, I'm totally not going to be bait for her. Also, I'm kind of losing consciousness here. Y'know with the whole lack of oxygen thing. As well as the puddle of red stuff quickly forming underneath me.

"You will lure her out, then you will kill her. Or you will die trying." Wow, this man has everything thought out. He's going to use me as a trap to lure out another master, make us fight to weaken the both of us, and then take on the surviving master.

Well he didn't think of the unpredictable. What if I end up making amends with that insane sister of Ronald McDonalds? What if I sweep her off her oversized clown feet, steal her heart from her husbando, and live happily ever after? Clearly he hasn't prepared for all possible outcomes. Or else he forgot the power of love. Man needs to listen to some Huey Lewis.

Who am I kidding? I'm either going to die of asphyxiation here, die of exsanguination here, or the circus freak's going to kill me and eat what's left of my corpse. None of these outcomes are the least bit enjoyable. Dammit Saber stop getting choked and help!

At that moment JB dropped my ass. I fell down like a sack of bricks. I heard Saber crash to the ground behind me. "I'd prefer killing you here. But you have a use. Do as I say or die." Well it's nice to see I have a choice in the matter.

I rub my throat as I cough. It takes a moment but I regain my breath. Sweet, sweet oxygen. How we take you for granted. My other hand immediately goes for the wound, and I try my best to stop the bleeding with pressure. Before I can properly lay into this guy with enough profanity to make a crew of sailors blush, they're gone.

The boundary field disappears, and I'm on the ground, in a puddle of my own blood, near Saber. She's also on the ground by the way. Looking like how I feel. Shocked, ashamed, and quite scared. On top of that I forgot to wear red pants. Or brown pants for that matter.

That guy's aura was so dark and menacing. It just imposed itself upon you. I've never met a person quite like that. The killing intent he exuded. It overpowered everything. He meant business. I could have died just like that. I might still die if I don't stop this bleeding.

And how strong is that Assassin? He took down Nero with one attack. She was completely at his mercy. Completely caught off guard. I had worked to get her back because I needed her strength. Yet now the supposed weakest of classes Assassin had taken her down in an instant. That's a scary thing. A guy like that with a servant like that?

Holy shit. He's more of a threat than the clown. In fact he's probably the strongest off us all. Rin doesn't seem like she'd be particularly difficult to kill. I could probably just shoot her in the face. Saber could probably keep Berserker off of me long enough for her to disappear.

I'm not sure how strong the Archer of this war is. He's probably the white knight's servant. So he'll be easy to manipulate and deceive. Rider was a simple and rather straightforward fight. Caster died by someone else's hands. Probably Assassin now that I think about it. Which means more than anything I have to kill them. They're going to be the most difficult opponent, and they're the one I need to defeat most.

If he's telling the truth, which I assume he is since there's no reason to lie, Uragiri's dealt with. Rather anticlimactic actually. This means all that's left is getting the direct killer of Plus. I'm guessing JB and Assassin are the most likely candidate. The Harweys were connected to it, and he's a Harwey. Case closed in my mind.

But now the one guy I really need to kill is capable of taking me down in an instant. Damn! I pound my fist into the ground. It kind of hurts. That was stupid. I feel useless. Powerless.

"Praetor?" Nero rubs my back. It feels kind of nice.

"Are you unharmed?" I don't know how to answer that. There's probably going to be a bruise around my neck, but nothing serious. The reopened wound is the scary part. Right as that thought crosses my mind I can feel Saber tense up behind me. Apparently she found the answer to her question.

She reaches down and places her hand over my own, the one I'm using to put pressure on my wound. Together we stop the bleeding. It stings a little but at least I'm not going to die here. Physically I'm fine. Bruised and bleeding, but fine in comparison to the shape I could be in.

Mentally I'm unhinged. I'm questioning my memories, my thoughts, my capabilities, everything. I don't know what's happening. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I guess all I can do is listen to JB. Not exactly something I enjoy. I suppose it doesn't really matter.

Normally just on principle I'd refuse, even if it resulted in my death. However in this case our goals align. By doing as JB says I'm just doing what I'd have to do eventually. Though I would have probably put it off as long as possible. I don't relish having to deal with the Insane Clown Posse anytime soon.

Yet again it seems like I'm simply going with the flow. I don't have a clear motive. There's nothing truly driving me. Just some vague semblance of wanting to avenge some girl I barely knew who died unfairly. Now I'm accepting my fate without any protesting. JB told me to do something so I'll do it to avoid dying. Nero asked me to fight in the Grail War so I decided to fight in the Grail War.

Nothing I ever do is dictated by my own choices. I'm a pawn. And it sucks. I should be the king. The main piece. I'm only important in my own mind. Only through my own eyes do I have value as more than a tool. Maybe that can be my goal. Becoming more than a tool. By being a tool. Ha. Hilarious. What a funny joke.

These are just the cards I was dealt. Win or lose I have to press on. I'm sitting on the ground, thinking about all of this, and the entire time Saber is silent. A forlorn expression covers her face. She'd probably take me for dead if it weren't for my continued breathing. As well as whatever connection we share. I still don't understand how it works.

Damn. It took me this long to realize I was completely ill-prepared. I have an iffy power that lets me make any firearm I want. Somehow it only works when I'm emotional. Or when I play music. Which is stupid, and sounds totally emo. That power was lost to me when I overused it. And all I did was match the strength of Rider. It wasn't even her main strength. Just something she could do.

In that single moment I was an equal to a being that by all means should have just crushed me. But just for that moment. I would have died had Nero not handled her. Or I would have died after the battle if it weren't for Rin. That was my power? The power to kill myself just by trying to stand as an equal? Just by being useful.

Now this. I got completely owned by a dude wearing fur. Holy fuck. What am I doing? I can stand as a god against random thugs, but against people like this I'm worthless.

That's when it hits me. Hard. I remember something my teacher once said. "It ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward." He had smiled at me. A large happy smile that showed off all his teeth.

"How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done. Got that kid?" Now that I think about it doesn't that sound like something from a movie I'd seen before? Bastard of a man couldn't even come up with his own inspirational lines.

The way he smiled though. That was the happiest I'd seen him. I can't remember when he said that. Hell, I can't even tell if he actually said that. Or maybe I'm just imagining it. Maybe I'm imagining him. . . . No. He was real. He is real. And right now he's coming back to me. He's telling me what I need to hear. He's being my Jiminy Cricket. I can't ignore that.

"They defeated us." The words spill out of my mouth.

Nero shifts. "It would seem that way."

I chuckled. "What am I doing?" I'm not looking at her so I can't see her expression, but I can feel the question in her eyes. She's asking for clarification. I already know how she'll respond though. She'll glare at me. Maybe hit me. She'll be offended, then she'll have some inspirational speech about why I shouldn't give up. Fuck that. I don't want to hear it.

Let's cut to the chase. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not supposed to know what I'm doing. I don't know what I did in the past. I don't know what I'll do in the future. I really don't know what I'm doing right now. I'm probably going to die. Who cares? Maybe I'll have done something by then. Maybe not.

That's the point isn't it? I don't know anything. I'm not supposed to. I just do. I need to cut the bullshit. Stop thinking so much, and just do. My teacher would be disappointed with anything else. That thought is what will drive me. I will prove myself. To myself, and to everyone else.

I force myself to my feet, pushing away Nero's hand while doing so. Blood starts to flow out of my wound. I take a deep breath. How'd I fix this last time? When I initially got stabbed? I should have died then, even though Berserker hadn't tried to kill me. I should have still died. Or at least not gotten up so quickly.

Something must have happened. I must have done it. I was unconscious for most of that. What went on? I healed myself. But how? I accessed my prana supply. It wasn't as hard as it used to be. I felt like I did before encountering Rider.

I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was I needed to access my magic. I know some healing magic, but I don't know if any of it can really help me now. Even with what my teacher taught me I wasn't an expert on the subject, andd this was a wound that certainly needed an expert. Healing cuts to avoid tetanus was one thing. Healing gaping holes in my abdomen was another thing entirely. I kept trying, something, anything, to save myself. This lasted about a minute before I just gave up. Essentially I would have accomplished more by drinking juice and eating some cookies.

Nero was staring at me like I was retarded. I felt kind of retarded. That's when the wound started to move. The flesh started shifting. It rippled, just like a disturbed puddle of water. I just watched as it stitched itself back together again. As the muscle tied itself back, and the skin sealed. I watched as the scar reappeared. As if nothing had happened.

Then I turned to Nero, my eyes bulging in confusion. "I'm mothafucking Hugh Jackman."

She remained calm. Then she nodded five times. In rapid succession. It was a machine-gun nod. "You have healed." She stated it as if it was obvious. Which it kind of was. It wasn't really the reaction I wanted though.

"I'm like Deadpool! This is awesome!" I started freaking out in joy. "I can't die! I'm immortal!"

She stared at me for a moment. Then she said something that really confused me. "Your hair has gotten lighter."

It was so random, so completely unrelated, that I kind of just stopped in my victory dance. "What are you on about?"

She pointed at me. "Your hair. It has become a lighter color."

That couldn't be possible. I didn't dye my hair or anything. In order to debunk her assertion I touched my hair. Really I don't know what I was trying to prove. I couldn't feel the color of my hair with my hand or anything. "I need a mirror."

She just shrugged. "Can you not just take my word for it?"

I shook my head furiously. "No. Not when it's something this important."

She snorted in amusement at this. "It still looks alright."

I started freaking out. "No. It has to look fabulous." I started sprinting back to the house. Leaving behind the puddle of blood, the 1911, and Nero, who could only look on in confusion.

I rushed straight into the door, completely forgetting it was locked. The resulting collision was very painful. I slide down the door and landed in a heap on the ground. Nero caught up to me at this point. Holding the 1911 by the barrel.

Ignoring her I unlocked the door and charged into my bathroom. The resounding cry of 'no' would rival those of Darth Vader. "I look like fucking Eminem!"

Nero peeked on me from the doorway. "It is not that bad."

My hair looked like I bleached it. "No, I look more like Jonah Hill when he tried to be Eminem!"

She chuckled at this. "It is fine. If anything you look more like one of those ganguro women I see in posters around here."

The entire bathroom was clouded with a dark aura as soon as she said this. My heart sunk as soon as she uttered that comment. "I look like a ganguro?"

She shrugged, as if this wasn't a serious situation. "A bit. Why? Is that not a popular style?"

I wanted to disappear. No, I wanted to become 'an hero' and commit Sudoku. "Can I sink any lower?" She honestly considered answering this. The glare I sent her ended those that considering.

I walked away from the mirror, with a newfound sense of despair. At least it took my mind off getting my ass whipped by JB. Shit, now that came back to me. I just can't win. Find out I have an awesome regeneration ability. It has the side effect of turning me into a bleached blond. What's next? I discover I can shoot ice cream out of my nipples but end up being lactose intolerant?

I'm going to go take a nap. This shit is tiring.

* * *

**I'd like to give a big shout-out to the user 'Server lock'. Thank you for leaving all of the reviews. It's quite nice to get all the feedback. Especially for my older chapters. I definitely need to work on my fight scenes. They're probably my weakest scenes. Along with the really emotional scenes. I much prefer goofy shenanigans and the inner thoughts of Dante. This chapter was kind of weak in the beginning, but I feel like it got better as it progressed. I just wanted to get it out before I procrastinated on it more. **


	16. Announcement

**Disclaimer- I am so, so thankful for all the support this story has gotten. 51 review, 49 favorites, and 58 followers. My God that's amazing. When I published this almost a year and a half ago I never expected anyone to read it, let alone enjoy it. ****So I'm somewhat regretful to say that I'm done with this story. Woah, woah, don't bring out the pitchforks and torches just yet! Let me explain. **

**When I wrote this story I didn't really have a clear vision for what it would be. I was really only writing it for shits and giggles. Now that's not exactly the whole reason for why I'm discontinuing this, but it is the main one. I've reread this story multiple times, and well, I have to say I'm not too impressed with it. Which is why I'm so amazed so many people enjoyed it, and it's why I'm so happy I managed to entertain you guys with it despite the story's obvious faults. But, I believe that, at the end of the day, you all deserve better. **

**So even though I'm regretful for deciding to cancel this story, I'm excited to say that the concept behind it is not entirely dead. For the past eight months or so I've been working on improving upon the failures of this story. I've also been talking with some great people that have helped me a lot with their input, and it's because of their help that I haven't given up completely on this story. Genderbent Emperors and Gallivanting Eccentrics may be for all intents and purposes dead, but the idea behind it (along with the character of Dante and his shenanigans) is going to live on in the form of an entirely rewritten rendition of the plot. Hopefully it'll retain all the best elements of the original while improving upon some of the weaker parts. This chapter is a preview for that rewrite. You can expect to see a lot less edginess, a lot less random filler, and a lot less plot holes courtesy of my lack of foresight. I'm hoping you'll enjoy it. **

**21st Century Schizoid Man-Prologue**

When I was a kid I used to find flowers pretty. I used to like smelling them, and identifying the different scents. I got bullied a lot as a kid. Now, here I am, standing in front of a cherry blossom tree, and I am most certainly not trying to smell it.

I'm just wondering why the hell it's even still here, surrounded by an urban jungle. The last of its kind. I'm told there used to be a park here. That it used to be filled with these trees. Little kids used to play around their trunks, flower petals raining down upon them like snowflakes. Adults used to stand underneath their branches and confess their love for one another. The elderly used to sit near them and reminisce about the past.

All I'm doing is staring at this old tree. Alone. Smoking a cigarette. And holding a half empty bottle of whiskey. I almost feel sorry for this tree.

It used to see all those happy memories unfold. Now it's only visitor is a guy like me. Apathetic to the world. Bored with life. Maybe even clinically depressed. And trying so desperately to hide it all the best I can. I'm a reflection of how this city's become. I can't help but chuckle dryly.

This city that doesn't have time for this cherry tree. They're going to cut it down tomorrow. It's been here for decades, but it's going to die pretty soon. An apartment complex is going to be built here. People have a need for it. They don't have a need for a cherry tree.

I don't either. Beauty may be pleasant on the eyes, but it's an intangible thing. Constantly withering away. Utterly useless. This is why I toss the butt of my cigarette near the tree's roots. It lands between a crushed soda can and a soiled diaper. They really accentuate the beauty of the tree. People really just don't care anymore. Bottle in hand, I walk away from the tree.

This city always was weird. Fuyuki City, Japan. A city with deeply traditional roots that tried to slap a new shade of modernity on itself. Really it could be divided into two towns. The new section of the city that I'm in now, known as Shinto, and the older section known as Miyama. In essence it's a sample of what Japan in its entirety is like.

A constant clash between the past and the future. Here I am, stuck in the middle. Living in the present. I take a deep swig from my bottle at the thought. An informal toast for the all those souls unfortunate enough to be regretting the past or panicking over the future. Thankfully I've avoided both of those fates.

Walking late at night is strangely calming. There's less people around, and the few that are out at this time tend to keep to themselves. Which suits me just fine. The lack of crowds brings with it a lack of chatter. It lets you hear everything that goes on in the city. A car horn honking in the distance. Some J-pop song playing from a guy's headphones. A homeless man begging for change. It's all practically music to my ears. Just got to add in a baby crying and a dog barking and the symphony will be complete.

This is the heartbeat of the city. It's drowned out during the day when everyone's too busy to hear it, but at night it's prominently on display. Then there's the visual aspects of the city. Neon signs. Streetlights. Cigarette smoke. It's beautiful. In the same way a heaping pile of shit is. But hey. you have to look on the bright side. At least it's better than the city's odor.

I keep walking down the street. Occasionally crossing it, not even looking both ways to check for traffic. I'm tired. Exhausted even. I could really use a night's rest. Unfortunately I know that tonight isn't going to be a restful night. A few minutes of walking and I've finally reached my destination.

An odd building, quite unlike any other building in the city. My Batcave. It lacks both the beauty of a traditional Japanese home and the marvelous appearance of a western style mansion. Yet it is still considered a home. Or at least a house. The fact that it's made entirely out of concrete makes it seem more akin to a safe house rather than a comfy home. Perhaps the word 'shelter' would be the best word to describe this Spartan looking building.

A six foot high metal fence surrounds the property the building is situated on. It lacks any ornateness, just like the house it protects. Home sweet home. I have to put a code into the gate's keypad before I can enter. I'll take a second of inconvenience over a lifetime of regret. As the saying goes, better safe than sorry.

Between the gate and the building there is the yard. It's quite spacious in comparison to other homes in the area. Something I can't help but be prideful of, as petty as it sounds. A pathway connecting the house to the front gate splits the yard clean in half. I slowly shuffle down that path, the sound of my footsteps echoing off into the distance. I make it my mission to take a swig from my bottle every few steps.

Eventually I'm at the front door. Another code entered into the door's keypad. Another inconvenient moment of button pushing. Another lock clicking open. The first of many. Now here's the real fun part. I have to awkwardly fish around in my pants' pockets. It would have been easier if I had put the whiskey bottle down, but I refused to part with it. Liquid courage has always been my best friend.

After a moment of searching, I've finally found it. A keyring containing several dozen keys of various designs. Now to figure out what the right one is. In the dark. Should have left the floodlights on. Screw the neighbors and their need for eight hours of sleep. It takes a moment to identify the correct key, but eventually I get lucky. Hopefully my luck will last.

Four more correct keys and the door's actually unlocked. A quick turn and the lack of a resulting _click _informs me that I'm wrong. 'Gotcha bitch'. It's almost as if the door's speaking to me now. Maybe I should stop drinking, I'm starting to imagine things. With the fifth correct key inserted, the door is actually open. I stumble inside and close it behind me. Then I have to go through the tedious task of locking it all.

Unsurprisingly the house was far from what could be considered neat. Unlike most Japanese homes there was no foyer that lead to the living room. Instead the living room was the first thing you saw once you entered through the front door. The open kitchen was the second thing you saw. Sadly neither rooms were in the best of shape.

Various books, both hardcover and paperback, were scattered haphazardly around the living room. Some were stacked on the floor, others were tossed in piles in various corners of the room. Newspaper clippings were tacked randomly on the walls, with headlines ranging from 'England's Greatest Marksman Arrives in Japan' to 'Indo-American Forces Destroy Terrorist Base'.

Sporadically tacked up next to them were various movie posters, all with the common theme of being mobster related.

Leftover dishes of takeout were covering the dining table in the kitchen. Even worse were the dozens of empty bottles of liquor that were not only on that table, but virtually everywhere in **both** rooms. On the couch, in the armchair, on the coffee table, even stacked around the computer desk hidden in the farthest corner of the room.

They looked like targets in a shooting range with how they were lined up on the kitchen counters. And several were stacked up like bowling pins on the tile floor. It didn't take much imagination to assume they were probably located all over the house itself. Cigarette butts were scattered around on the ground, probably because I didn't even care enough to own an ashtray.

The room smelled of tobacco smoke, cheap alcohol, and body odor. A pleasant concoction if there ever was one. It's safe to say I hardly had company over. In my opinion the messy state of the house actually added character. It made the house feel positively alive. As if it was a character in its own right. A stark contrast to the house's outside appearance.

I looked around my house as if I'd just seen it for the first time. Really that wasn't too far from the truth. I'd been away from home for a good three days. The grumbling coming from my stomach told me I was hungry. Alcohol only sustains you so far.

I guzzled down the rest of my drink down rather sloppily, wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve, and tossed the bottle into a garbage can in the corner. It landed inside with a satisfying _clink. _Shaq would have been proud. I then proceeded to awkwardly stumble into the kitchen. To an outside viewer I must have looked like John Wayne getting off of his horse.

I plopped into a chair at the dining table and gave myself a moment to catch my breath. The fact that I needed one caused me to feel a little bit of shame. Then I got back up and made my way to the freezer. A few minutes later and I had microwaved myself a TV dinner.

The food was unappealing but since I was hungry I forced it down. It was some type of meat patty along with dehydrated mashed potatoes and corn. The important factor was the price of it being really cheap. I suppose that's the only way they could sell them, since the meat was like cardboard and the potatoes like sawdust. The corn was ok. For frozen corn. Still at least it was food, no reason for me to complain.

My meal finished I offered a satisfied belch. And that's when my cell phone started beeping. The alarm I had set a few hours prior had just gone off. "Well, looks like it's time to go."

I glanced at one of my newspaper articles on the wall. The headline stood out even among the rest. "Massive Spike in Homicides around Fuyuki". Pretty ominous stuff, if you ask me. There was a lot behind that title, and most of it was lost to the average person.

They'd read it and probably think 'damn Yakuza' or something along those lines. I wish that was the case. Handling the Fujimuras was easy peasy. Hell, handling any of the gangster bosses in this country was easy. Even the boys in Ikebukuro weren't that unreasonable. The only one I'd consider a pain in the ass would be Gonzou, and he wasn't that bad. Sure he was a cold-hearted, manipulating, mother "lover" but that's kind of what you had to be in his line of work. Sadly this was a bit bigger than gangsters.

A part of me wanted to freshen up before I left. I'd just gotten here and I already had to head out again. But I knew I couldn't waste the time. If I went off and showered and changed clothes I'd end up procrastinating with this, and believe me this wasn't something I could afford to hesitate on.

The pair of gloves that covered my hands was removed. I won't be putting them back on for the rest of the night. There's no need to worry about fingerprints. With their departure the flesh of my hands was laid open for all to see. The sight was less than pretty. They say there's a lot you can tell by looking at someone's hands. I don't mean that kindergarten bullshit about the line in your palm telling you how long you'll live.

Some people had calluses that covered their hands. A sign that they were hard laborers. On the other hand (terrible pun intended) people with delicate hands may be used to a comfy upper class lifestyle. Or at least have the time to apply a lot of lotion. Well then, what did my hands tell the curious observer? Covered in bruises, cuts, and burns, they looked like they'd just been used to dig my way out of a battlefield. The hands of a survivor.

I activate my magical circuits. A mental image of a bullet being chambered into a rifle enters my mind. If we're going to be specific the rifle was a bolt action model. Though really it doesn't matter. I kneel down and place the palm of my hand to the floor. "Mutata in manibus meis." I almost whisper these words. I'd been waiting for this moment, anticipating it for days.

Saying that phrase in Latin, it was a final confirmation. It told me that I would never be able to go back from here. That my life would change drastically. Even though I was disappointed I wasn't scared. It's almost like I welcomed the challenge.

"Ostende mihi." The wooden tile of the floor shifts. It almost looks alive as it twists and folds upon itself to reveal a hidden space. A metal suitcase. That was the only thing placed in this hidden compartment. Right now it was a starting point. I pull the case out. The floor had already started to reform to its proper appearance. The wooden tiles look as if they were serpents, crawling and slithering back into place. It was unnerving. I kind of wish they would just pop back into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Instead of this dramatic twisting shit.

"No matter how many times I do it, I won't ever get used to that." I looked down at the case in my hands. The light from the microwave glistens off of its surface. It was a well-built case. An expensive buy, one that had the durability to last despite the punishment it had taken. One of many scattered around this house. This case was one of the smaller ones. With a length of only three feet.

"Recludo." The previously locked suitcase clicks open. The case didn't have a keyhole, and was strong enough that in order to force your way into it you'd probably destroy what it contained. So magic or a skilled locksmith was the only way to open it. I would have rather had someone break into my house than into this case. Especially considering how I was in Japan. With the case open its contents were visible to all. Boxes of bullets. All containing the exact same cartridge. FN 5.7×28mm. The SB193 subsonic variety. These bullets were meant to surpass and replace the popular 9×19mm Parabellum cartridge. It didn't really work out in the end. Mainly because of a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit.

Besides these bullets there were several suppressors, to avoid raising the dead every time I pulled the trigger. Along with what looked to be spare magazines for a gun, stacked side by side. The main attraction was of course the firearm these magazines were for. Anyone who played even a few first-person shooters would recognize it. The FN P90. Basically it shoots a lot of bullets, really fast. Oh, and it's pretty compact, meaning it's easy enough to conceal.

"Time to hunt wabbits." I close the case up again, it locks on its own. The clock on my wall read 12: 43 A.M. It was the 'dead zone' period of the night. Where everything supernatural was supposed to go on. Perfect time for another mage to screw around with things they shouldn't. I went into my garage through a side door in the kitchen. The weapon's case in my hand of course.

The garage was spotless in comparison to the house itself. Which isn't much to say, all things considered. At least I didn't trip finding the light switch. If I had I probably would have broken my neck or something. Not really an honorable way to die. The garage door opens with the press of a button. There are some things better done with technology than magic. The garage opens up to the backyard of the house, which was mainly just a driveway with another password locked gated. It'd take a moment to open. Boundary fields be damned, they didn't tell people you meant business. Big iron gates with pointy spikes on them told people you damn well meant business.

Now all I had to do was get in my vehicle and take a short drive down the street. Aforementioned vehicle was an ominous looking utility van. Seriously, it almost made me want to paint 'Free Candy' on the side to complete the look. I wasn't a dedicated enough actor though. And I really didn't want to grow a pencil 'stache.

I was anxious the whole drive. Not because of the destination but because of the ride itself. The suitcase sat in the passenger seat, I could have tossed it in the very back of the car but it didn't seem necessary. Unfortunately I could think of nothing but police lights the entire drive. Getting pulled over by a cop was not the type of setback I needed right now. Granted I didn't need any, but I'd take something like a flat tire over a police interrogation any day.

Luckily nothing happened. Well I did run into a pothole, but that's not really exciting enough to mention. Even though I already did mention it. I'd made it to my destination without much incident. It was a blatantly abandoned building. At one point in time it might have been a prestigious house. The property value must have been pretty nice back in the day. Sadly it was now just another neglected building that should have been demolished.

The reason I was here was simple. My target was here. Once upon a time this house used to be owned by the Second Owner family in Fuyuki. They'd left it here to rot for a few years. Hopefully I wouldn't get tetanus or some shit by going into it. I double back and park a block away from the manor. Then I exit the van. It took all of two seconds to load the P90. I toss a few spare magazines in my pockets for good luck. Hopefully this won't take more than a single shot.

I lock up the van and make my way to the house. The P90 slung across my chest and covered by the jacket I was wearing. The minute long walk from my car to the house ends up being worse than the drive here. Images of a beat cop wandering upon me flow through my mind. They fade away when I make it to the front gate.

Here's where I have a few options. The first was to hop the fence. It was old so I can maybe even bend or break some of the bars off. The second option was to tediously attempt to pick the gate's lock, then proceed to stealth roll into battle taking my enemy by surprise. Perhaps it could even involve the use of a cardboard box, or maybe a hay bale. The third option was to start shooting and just not stop. Extra points for screaming like a banshee while doing so. The fourth is probably the best, but also the most boring. It involves simply opening the gate that was apparently unlocked. I pick option four.

The other problem I may have is dealing with an enemy's boundary field. Luckily, or unluckily depending on your view, I can't sense a field. Which either means there isn't one, or that I'm so pathetic I can't even feel one. So I'm either overestimating my opponent, or I'm outclassed. A pleasant thought if there ever was one.

I don't have time to think about it anymore. I rush onto the property and to the manor's front door. A moment passes where I consider breaching through it. Then I realize you should never breach through the front door. So I shimmy my way into a broken window.

Immediately I feel as if something is wrong. There's a harsh scent of blood in the air. Whether it's human or not is impossible to judge. I can probably lick it later to find out, but that risks the chance of contracting all sorts of fun diseases. The other thing wrong with the house, besides the feel of prana in the air, is the voice I can hear quite clearly.

"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.

Let each be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time.

Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation." The voice sounds somewhat feminine, it's too high-pitched to be a man. What it's saying means one thing. Shit. I'm already too late.

I sprint in the direction of the voice, trying my best to muffle my footsteps as I do so. The low lighting makes it difficult to tell where I'm going, but I can make out a flight of stairs in front of me. The voice isn't on this floor and I can hear it coming from this direction. That can only mean they are on one of the upper floors. After rushing off the stairs I barrel down a hallway in front of me. The voice has to be on this floor. Not only is it getting louder, but the feeling of prana usage is getting closer as well. It's making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.

Charging ahead through the darkness brings me to a single door. It's a dead end, there's no way the voice is coming from anywhere but here.

"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!" That was the last line needed. No time to think about stealth. I kick the door open. Then I open fire without hesitating. A series of bursts in the general direction of the figure responsible for all this. They're shorter than I was expecting. Meaning I am in fact dealing with a woman. Or a midget. Perhaps Frodo is my enemy. As a result of this height difference, the first burst goes right over their head. Unlike in the movies suppressed gunfire still makes a noise. A noticeable noise. Yet it isn't loud enough for anyone unfamiliar with the sound to recognize it immediately.

It's just three pulls of the trigger. With the first burst missing completely. I'd readied the weapon and fired without taking the time to aim. My accuracy reflected this. The second burst is slightly better. I'd taken a moment to aim and fired again. It grants me a wonderful sight. A few rounds connecting with the mage's form. Mostly hitting her upper back and left shoulder. She twitches in response, and in the process she shows me something quite distinguishable. The back of her hand. Even in the low light I can see the Command Spells. It's the third burst that ends this. I've compensated for the gun's recoil by now. That, combined with my solid aim, results in several shots tearing through that hand. The wrist and upper arm are mangled too. Bullets cutting through them like a hot knife through butter. Nothing is left to chance. No mercy is shown. I can clearly see the offending appendage soar through the air. A wet squishy sound echoes throughout, clearly signaling its impact.

She collapses like a sack of potatoes. I don't pause to reload, instead I blitz into the room, sights still set on the mage. A low groan is coming from her location. It's not surprising to hear she's still alive. In fact I'd hoped for it. It would have made this more interesting. What is surprising, is the fact that the mage isn't a woman. I'm only ten steps into the room, and even in the dark I can tell that much. I hit the safety on my P90, and it's comfortably slung against my chest. I don't need it anymore.

His hair is curly, it looks a little like seaweed in how it's styled. Except it's blue. His eyes are closed, though he's not unconscious. If he were unconscious his expression wouldn't show his agony. He's young. Oh God is he young. He looks maybe eight or nine. Ten at most. That expression is going to haunt me. A little boy shouldn't look like that.

For once, I don't know what to do. His arm is now reduced to nothing but a stump, and he's trying his best to cradle it in his chest. As if he's hiding it from the world, trying to pretend it's still attached. "The Matou was supposed to be a woman with purple hair." Who am I talking to? The kid can't hear me. He's too lost in his own anguish. He'll pass out in a few minutes from blood loss. Then he'll die. I had just killed a child.

It's hard to think straight. A jumble of thoughts and ideas come to mind as to how to fix this. How to make things right. In an instant I dismiss most of them. One plan stands out among the rest. It's arguably the most difficult, yet also the simplest. All I have to do is patch him up myself. I kneel above the boys form, glancing down at him for a second. He noticeably tenses at my close proximity. Ignoring his reaction, I reach out to him.

Then I'm interrupted. It happens the second I stretch my hand out to the boy. A bright light that covers everything. So intense that I see it even with my eyes closed. Then it's gone. One second the room was bathed in a purifying light, the next, it was concealed in shadows once again. I don't dare to so much as breathe. I know what that light signals. The thing that I'd come here to prevent. It had happened. The final servant had been summoned.

A groan from the boy draws my attention to him and away from the summoning circle. It's not a wise idea to take your eyes off of the enemy, especially when they're a Servant. I know this, yet I ignore that golden rule. The boy's life is more important. The palm of my hand makes contact with his cheek. "Mutata in manibus meis." Prana courses through me, I focus it on a single point. The center of my palm. "Vestigo." In less than a second I know more about the kid's body than he does. Holy shit does that sound creepy. I focus on the wounds. Severed arteries. Cracked bones. Ripped flesh. And the obvious one. His missing arm. "Convenio." With just a word, and a ton of prana, I've accelerated the rate at which his blood will clot. It's a lot less painful than the old fashioned method of cauterizing and a lot easier than outright healing the wounds themselves. The important part is that it'll keep him from dying. It won't give him his arm back, but it's a start at least.

With that done I finally take notice of our new 'guest'. It took only a quick glance to realize the figure that had appeared was that of a girl's. She has blonde hair that is tied up in some type of bun with a red ribbon. The clothing she wears is strange to say the least. She's wearing a red and white dress with gold trim. The red matches the red of a rose, while the white is like that of pure snow.

On her shoulders she has what seem to be epaulettes. They don't really match the dress. She seriously needs a new fashion designer. For shoes she has high heels. It seems she also has some type of armored shin guard on her legs too. A useless place for armor. Especially when considering it's the only protection her outfit provides. The most absurd part of her attire is the fact that her dress has see-through sections that show a portion of her back and rear.

She slowly turns around to face me. Her eyes are a bright shade of green. Like that of a jade statue. Her expression is questioning but the smile on her lips can almost be called an arrogant smirk. Looking at her hair again, I realize she has something the Japanese call an ahoge, which I basically see as a cowlick. The irritating part about this girl, besides her haughty appearance, is the fact that pretty much the entire front of her dress is translucent. It is to the degree that I can see her underwear.

"I ask of you, are you my Master?" And with that simple question I realize everything is about to go so very, very wrong.

* * *

**AN: So? What'd you guys think? This isn't the finished product as of yet, though it's the majority of what I'm planning for the first chapter. I'm going to end up uploading it as a separate story instead of simply replacing GEGE's chapters. I'm also not going to delete GEGE, that way you guys can compare the original and it's replacement if you feel so inclined. I apologize for not making this announcement sooner (and for making it sound so melodramatic) it's been a long eight months and a lot has come up that's really hampered my love of writing. I've sorted all that out by now, and I'm praying nothing else will come up that'll delay this even further. I'm not sure when I'll upload this rewrite, but it should be soon. It all depends on how you react to this preview, so please feel free to critique it to your hearts content in the form of a review or even a PM if you would be so kind. If everything goes right this'll probably be the last time I update this story. Thank you so much for reading it.**

**-SB **


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